Landing Feet First
by literarylolita
Summary: Conflict enters the lives of Eli and Clare, and for once it has nothing to do with their relationship. How do they respond when outside forces threaten both their futures? Eclare Season 12.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is based off of the promos for Season 12. I wasn't planning on writing it, but the plot frankly wouldn't leave my head. Before I knew it, the whole thing was outlined and the first chapter written. This fic is dedicated to musiksnob for always listening to my crazy ideas. **

**Warning: This story WILL have its happy moments, but also deals with very mature themes. The rating will change.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

"_If our world falls down tomorrow, you be sure I'll be there with a net to catch the pieces falling."-Bayside, "Landing Feet First"_

Clare

I wait patiently for Eli on the steps of Degrassi, shivering slightly in the winter air. School let out five minutes ago, and Eli and I are supposed to walk to his house to study.

It's been a month since we got back together, and every day I'm amazed at how different things are this time around, amazed at how much BETTER they are.

We go on dates most weekends and talk on the phone every night, but between his play and my busy schedule due to various extra-curricular activities, we haven't had much time to just "hang out". In fact, this afternoon will be the first time I step foot in his house in nearly a year. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about seeing his parents. They used to like me; I fear that may no longer be the case.

Before my stomach can twist into a ball of nerves, I hear Eli's voice behind me.

"Clare! I'm sorry." He scurries down the steps and I notice he looks stressed. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, just a few minutes." I tighten my scarf around my neck and offer him my hand. Even through my gloved fingers, I can feel the heat of his skin. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he mutters, "I'm just annoyed." We start walking toward his house just as the sky opens up a bit and allows a few snowflakes to fall. "I was late getting out because Simpson called me into his office at the end of last period."

My last class of the day is my worst subject: math. I have to concentrate quite hard, so I'm not surprised I didn't hear the announcement over the PA. "Oh? What for?"

He lets out a frustrated growl; one that I've noticed only forms at the thought or mention of Becky Baker.

"Becky wants back on the play," he sighs.

"Ah." I turn my head to offer a sympathetic look, but he's looking straight ahead with his jaw set in a firm line. "Did Simpson say why?"

"No, but SHE did. She was his office with an ANNOYINGLY bright grin on her face." Eli contorts his mouth into something that makes him resemble a deranged clown. "Oh, HI Eli!" He squeaks in a high voice. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what I said before! I've decided I want to participate in the play after all!" His voice returns to its normal octave. "I don't get it. She quit. She was honestly appalled by my vision for the play."

"Maybe she had a change of heart," I gently suggest.

"No, Clare, that's not it." He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he's had for as long as I've known him. "You didn't see her face; it was filled with disgust at the idea of two guys loving each other. And now she's suddenly _okay with it_? I'm not buying it."

"Eli, just give her a chance," I try. "From what you've told me, you weren't exactly the nicest person to her at the beginning of your collaboration."

He sighs. "I know I can be a dick, Clare." His steps quicken as we turn onto his street. "But I genuinely think this play is important."

"I know, Eli," I respond. "It's going to help you get into NYU."

Eli stops in his tracks, effectively stopping me in mine. We're in front of his house, but he shows no interest of going in. "It's not just about that, Clare. Becky didn't want to include Tristan in the play AT ALL, and her only reason for that was what she called his 'confusion'. She wanted to exclude a fourteen-year-old kid, a SERIOUSLY talented kid at that, solely because he's gay. It's fucked up. It's WRONG."

I feel my face soften. Like Eli admits, he CAN be a dick, but sometimes he's the most compassionate person I've ever met. "I know it is, Eli." I place my hand on his cheek and despite the chill he leans into my touch. "Maybe her being a part of the process will make her reevaluate her thoughts." He shoots me a skeptical look. "Eli, you're a brilliant storyteller. And I know this play is going to be amazing because of you."

He closes his eyes and covers my hand that's on his face with his own. "You think far too highly of me, Clare."

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his lips softly. "I know," I tease. "Come on, let's go inside. It's cold, and I want to get this over with."

His eyes crinkle in confusion. "Get what over with?"

I feel blood rush to my cheeks. "It's just…I haven't seen your parents in so long. Do they totally hate me?"

Eli laughs. "No, Clare. They're just…mildly concerned about our relationship." I frown, and he continues. "…Or rather about what I might do if it doesn't work out this time."

I drop my hand from Eli's face. I don't want to think about losing him again; it hurt enough to do it once.

"Hey," he says, squeezing the hand that hasn't left his the entire walk home. "They're just being protective. But I'm in a good place now. I can keep a handle on things."

I know he's telling the truth, but I still can't calm the nerves in my stomach. "Lead the way then." I muster up a small smile to accompany my words. Eli pecks my cheek before we mosey up his driveway and through his front door.

"Cece, Clare and I are home!" He yells, shrugging off his coat and dumping his backpack unceremoniously onto the floor. I follow suite, and Cece comes into the living room.

"Hi, Eli!" She rushes over to him and places a kiss on his cheek. I smile at the embarrassed look on Eli's face. "And hello to you, too, Clare. It's nice to see you again!" She pulls me into an embrace so warm I just might cry because I've missed her so much. The hug ends quickly, and Eli takes my coat to hang up with his in the hallway closet.

"Where's Bullfrog?" Eli asks. He places his hand on the small of my back. My face flushes what has to be a shade of tomato red, both because of how the action makes me feel and the fact that his mother is two feet away from us.

"He picked up an extra shift at the station. Come, on, I've got snacks!" She turns around and I look at Eli nervously.

"You're fine," he mouths silently before steering me into the kitchen. Cece is placing cheesecake on plates; my mouth waters at the sight. Her cheesecake is without a doubt the best desert I've ever tasted. Eli pulls out a stool at the counter for me then gestures at it dramatically. "Milady," he says with a fake English accent.

I roll my eyes. "You're a dork."

"Yeah," he smirks, "but you like it."

We both laugh and I notice Cece looking at us intently, her eyes dashing between the both of us. Suddenly, a beeping sound goes off.

"Is that your alarm?" Cece asks Eli as she glances at the clock. "Wow, it's 3:30 already."

Eli dashes into the living room and comes back with his school bag. He roots through it, placing various items on the counter: his copy of _Brave New World _we're reading for English, a mixed CD in a clear case, a moleskin notebook. Finally, he finds what he's to be looking for: his pill container. He pops it open, dumps two pills into his hand, and quickly dry-swallows both of them. This isn't the first time I've seen Eli take his pills. On our late night dates his phone alarm goes off at 10:30, reminding him to take the medication. My heart aches for him every time I see the routine. It's a reminder that Eli will always have to cope with his bi-polar disorder.

I feel Cece's eyes on me, and turn to look at her. I can't read her expression. Just as I open my mouth to say something, Eli's phone goes off again, this time with his ringtone ("Paisley Jacket" is on what has to be its tenth time in the rotation of the role). "Ugh," Eli says upon looking at the phone. He punches the answer button and brings it to his ear. "What?" he asks, clearly irritated.

"Elijah," Cece scolds, "don't be rude."

Eli covers the mouthpiece with his hand. "It's Becky," he whispers, sounding annoyed. To indicate he needs a moment, he holds up his pointer finger and walks out of the room. "Yes, Becky, I know you're producing the play again, I was in Simpson's office twenty minutes ago when you announced it…"

"That bible-thumping zealot is working with Eli again?" Cece asks sounding mildly exasperated. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry Clare." Her face wears a look of embarrassment. "I know you're a Christian…" her voice trails off.

"It's okay," I assure her. "Yes, I'm a Christian, but I'm nothing like her." It's true. Some people at my church have the same close-minded views on homosexuality as Becky, but I'm not one of them. I somehow doubt Jesus would walk around judging people based on whom they love.

Cece's face softens. "I know you're not, sweetie." She pushes a plate of cheesecake in front of me and hands me a fork. It saddens me when we fall into an uncomfortable silence. Conversation has never been a problem between Cece and me.

Then again, the last time we talked was before I broke her son's heart.

"Clare, I just want-"

"NO, Becky, we are not doing a goddamn TAPDANCE number. Singing is bad enough." The sound of Eli's loud outburst permeates through the walls. Cece and I promptly dissolve into giggles. Some of the tension is broken, and I notice a light shining in her eyes.

She's just as happy to have Eli back as I am.

I can't imagine what it must've been like for her to care for Eli nearly 24/7. I wasn't around, and while I know that's what was best for both Eli and me at the time, it still pains me to think about Eli's parents (and Adam) dealing with Eli all alone. Cece didn't lose Eli the way I did; she still saw him every day. But she still lost him. She had to see him in various stages of mania, depression, and when he was on anti-anxiety medication, emptiness.

"I'm sorry," I suddenly say. Cece stops laughing and looks confused.

"I'm sorry for what you had to go through with Eli. I can't imagine how hard it was for you and Bullfrog." I sigh. "I'm sorry I couldn't help him."

Cece sighs. "Clare, the truth is that Eli's father and I should have gotten him help years ago. Even before Julia's death, he had mood swings. Nothing like last year, but…"

I try to fight off the tears forming in my eyes. Eli is okay now. I will figure out a way to deal with it if he relapses. "I don't plan on hurting him again Cece."

"Oh, sweetie," Cece comes around the counter and pulls me into a hug. "You never meant to. I know that. So does Bullfrog." She rubs my back and I squeeze her tight. After a few moments she pulls away and tucks my hair behind my ear. A serious look crosses her face. "He's better now, but I just want you to know that there is a good chance he will have another episode someday. It's practically guaranteed. You realize that, right?"

"Yes," I say immediately. "I told Eli I was all in, and I meant it. The truth is that I had to work out some things on my own too. My family went through some radical changes very quickly…I didn't feel like myself for a while, but I do now."

Cece nods. "Eli told me a little bit about your family, but we should get lunch some Saturday afternoon. You can fill me in yourself."

"I'd like that."

"NO, Becky, for the love of God, we are NOT asking Tristan to dress in drag. The love story is between two guys, you knew that when you signed back on, and it's not going to change! I will see you at rehearsal tomorrow." He hangs up and lets out another "I hate Becky" growl. His eyes flicker to me, and his expression immediately changes. "Sorry about that."

I laugh. "It's okay." Eli sits down and grabs his share of cheesecake.

"I have some errands to run. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Cece says. "Oh, and Clare, let me know about lunch." She winks at me as she leaves.

Eli looks at me, both horrified and confused. "Lunch?"

"Don't you worry about it." I laugh at the look on his face and head into the living room to fetch my book bag. "Get your stuff out. It's time to study.

_**Later…**_

We've just finished our homework when Eli slams his history book shut. "Ugh, my brain hurts."

I giggle and massage his head with my fingers. "Want me to head home so you can take a nap?" My tone is teasing, but I know sometimes Eli gets headaches as a side effect from his medication. The only remedy that eases them is sleep.

"What?" He immediately sits up. "No, I do not want you to go!" He starts tickling my sides and I nearly fall off my stool in hysterics.

"Stop!" I squeal. "This-isn't-fair!" His hands cease their teasing, but his laughter does not. "Eli, that's not fair, and you know it! You're not ticklish, so I can't fight back!"

"But you're just so cute when you squeal!" I glare at him playfully. "Seriously, though, it's only five o'clock, and it's the first afternoon we've both been free since…hell, probably since we got back together." He stands and rubs the back of his neck, sporting a mildly nervous expression. "Do you want to come upstairs?"

I hesitate for only a moment before nodding. I follow him to the stairs that he proceeds to ascend two at a time. I scurry after him, and the next thing I know we're in his room.

What I see takes my breath away. The last time I was in here, it was an absolute, filthy mess. Eli and I worked on it often, and while I convinced him to get rid of everything that could easily be found in the dumpster behind a supermarket, he couldn't bear to part from non-trash items.

"Eli…" Words, as they so rarely do, fail me.

He looks down, and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he's blushing. "Yeah?"

"Your room…" I spin around, taking it all in. "It's clean." Sure, there's a jacket on the floor, and a corner seems to be dedicated to a mess of stacked books, but the same could be said for Jake's room (except the books would be DVDs or the Playboys I know he swipes from Glenn).

He raises his head and offers me a half-smile. "Yeah, uh, well…when we broke up," he swallows, clearly not wanting to dwell on the memory any more than I do, "…I sort of went on a cleaning spree. I don't know what happened. I mean, an entire third of our garage houses plastic totes full of my shit. I'll go through them someday and get rid of more stuff, but-"

I cut him off with a kiss. Surprised, he takes a moment to respond, but when he does his hands encircle my waist and he gently pries my mouth open with his tongue. I softly nibble on his lower lip and place my hands on his face, stroking the sides of it with my thumbs. When holds me tighter a ball of warmth forms in my heart before spreading it's way to the end of each of my limbs. I break the kiss in order to catch my breath but don't remove my hands from his face.

I stare into his eyes; they are full so many things: passion, kindness, adoration, and a little bit of fear. "Eli, I am so proud of you."

A look of joy crosses his face, and before I can voice anything else his lips prevent mine from speaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Holy moly! A lot of you seem to be interested in this story. Thank you SO much to those of you who read the first chapter, and DOUBLE thanks to those of you who reviewed. **

**I recently wrote a one-shot called "Always". It's on my profile, and its contents are my head canon for what happened before the events of this fic, so you should check it out!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

Note: This chapter takes place about a week after the previous one.

"_I've been to Heaven; I've been to Hell. I've been to Vegas and God knows where. But nothing feels like home like you babe. I love you more than you will ever know."-Never Shout Never, "I Love You More Than You Will Ever Know"_

_Eli_

"Romeo, oh Romeo, WHY, I ask you, Romeo?" Tristan (as Jules) sighs. "Why must you be from the family that mine wants to drop a bomb upon?"

"Because, baby, a long time ago, I'm talking way back in the 1920s, my dad's mob took a hit out on yours," Dave (as Romeo) responds. "And the longer a feud lasts, the more intense the fighting gets, yo."

I look happily upon the scene unplaying before me. Despite Becky re-joining the process a week ago, the play is coming along nicely. Sure, Becky gets on my nerves with her ridiculous suggestions and generally annoys me by existing, but she's barely challenged my concept for the play.

"ELI, oh my heavens I have an idea!"

Well, she's hardly challenged the two-guys part of my vision. Everything ELSE, however, seems to be fair game. Frustrated that she interrupted the scene, I growl. "That's enough for today, guys. See you after school tomorrow." Tristan and Dave roll their eyes; my actors aren't much happier with Becky than I am. I notice that Adam stays behind and sits in one of the audience seats behind us. "You know, Becky, for someone who loves theatre so much you sure interrupt its process often."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Eli, it's just my mind is so intense! I can't help myself." Becky beams and I squeeze my fists in anger. Something tells me Little Miss Sunshine has no idea what it's like for your mind to take over to the point where you can't control your actions.

Becky sits on the edge of the stage and gestures for me to do the same. I scowl and remain standing. "Eli, while I think your dialogue is…"

"Modern and updated to compliment the idea of what is an acceptable love storyline in the twenty-first century?"

She barely flinches. "…I was going to say _interesting._ It's different-and I know how you like things that are different-but…maybe we should stick with the original script. I'm sure even _you _can put your ego aside and agree that William Shakespeare was a FAR better playwright than you. We should keep this play as traditional as possible; I mean, do we really want to mess with a classic?" She smiles triumphantly.

Mess with a classic? Seriously? I stare at her in blank disbelief for a moment before finally snapping. "Becky, you wanted to turn this play into a goddamn musical!"

Adam, who appears to be studying his lines for Mercutio, chuckles.

"Please don't use the Lord's name in vain!"

I ignore her and throw up my hands in exasperation. "YOU are the one who wanted to 'mess with a classic'. YOU are the one who insisted on interjecting the Bard's most famous play with fucking SHOWTUNES."

"Singing and dancing has been around as long as Shakespeare!" she fumes. "Your use of colloquial language has not!"

Before I lose control of myself and actually _voice_ my opinion that Becky is a stupid bitch (because I've definitely _thought _it), I hear my favorite person's voice.

"Eli?" I turn to see Clare at the edge of the stage. She must've snuck in a few minutes ago.

I drop my hands to my sides and walk over to her. "Clare," I say, my irritated mood slightly quelled by the sight of her.

"How's rehearsal going?" she asks as she takes my hand. She turns her head and raises her eyebrows, giving me that look that always somehow gets me to back off of situations that seriously piss me off. I sigh and can't stop the sheepish grin forming on my face.

"Eli? What is she doing here?" I turn around to see Becky staring at Clare with a little too much scrutiny for my liking. "And why are you suddenly being _nice?"_

"I'm typically nice to people who aren't _you," _I retort.

"Eli," Clare chides.

"Oh," Adam pipes up as he abandons his script and walks over to us. Grinning like and idiot, he slings one arm around Clare and the other around me. "You don't know? Clare is Eli's giiiirlfriend."

Clare rolls her eyes, but I smile at the statement. Teasing or otherwise, it's nice to hear those words again.

"Girlfriend?" Becky asks incredulously. "Really?"

"Yeah…" I trail off, confused. "Why do you look so surprised? Didn't think anyone could love someone like me?" I say the words without thinking, and I look nervously at Clare, who suddenly seems to find the floor quite interesting. I probably shouldn't go around casually declaring she loves me; we haven't even exchanged those words with one another since getting back together.

"Well, there's that," Becky responds, "but it's more that I thought you were…" Her face turns red, and I realize where she's going with this.

"You seriously thought I was gay?" My tone is laced with shock, not anger. There is nothing offensive about homosexuality. Love is love, and if you ask me, it comes along far too rarely and slips through the cracks so often that it should be appreciated no matter whom it's between.

"Well, you're so adamant about the play being a love story between two guys…"

"Becky," Clare interrupts, surprising me. "You don't have to _be_ gay to _support_ gay people." Her tone is patient. The kind look on her face amazes me; she's a far better person than I am.

Adam clearly looks uncomfortable. He drops his arms from around us and backs away.

Becky eyes Clare's cross necklace and the look on her face morphs from one of surprise to one of fury. "How dare you wear the symbol of our Lord and Savior around your neck?"

"Excuse me?" Clare asks, the kindness in her voice now absent. "I'm a Christian too, Becky."

"No you're not," Becky spits. "If you followed Jesus you would clearly see that homosexuality is _wrong._"

"I guess I just choose to live my life the way I think Jesus would," Clare states, her voice less on edge.

"By advocating alternative lifestyles that are blatantly spoken against in the Bible?" Becky's voice is shrill, and Jesus Christ, she's actually stamping her foot in anger. Great, the producer of my play is not only a homophobic asshole; she's also a petulant child.

Then Clare says something that reminds me of just how good a person she is. "By treating EVERYONE with love and respect."

Becky's face drops, and Clare's words appear to finally render her speechless. Becky storms out of the rehearsal space without a parting remark.

"Well then," Adam states, "that was…well, that was _something."_ Clare and I numbly nod in unison. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why Becky wants to work on this project.

I put my arm around Clare's waist. "So," I say to her, "not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Clare blushes and I wonder how on earth I can still make her do that. I can think of some very _specific_ ways I'd like to try, though.

"We finished up at the newspaper early," she says, "so I thought I'd surprise you and come check out how things are coming along here."

"Well I'm glad," I say. "You should come around more often. Apparently you have some sort of magical powers that are capable of shutting Becky up."

"I'll try to do that," Clare responds sardonically. She leans her head on my shoulder and I place a kiss on her curls.

"Awe, that's cute," Adam interjects. I flip him off and Clare smacks my hand away.

"Do you two want to go get hot chocolates or something?" Clare asks.

"I would love to, but I'm on Drew duty tonight," Adam sighs. "My parents are going to be out late and Mom doesn't want him by himself for even a second."

"How's he doing?" asks Clare with concern in her eyes.

"I really don't know." Adam shrugs. "The doctors all say it's going to take time. I mean, he has Bianca; she comes over all practically every day. I know that makes him happy. Too bad she's busy with her aunt tonight. I've REALLY missed hanging out with you!"

"Adam," I snort. "We play video games at least twice a week."

"You and _I_ do," he retorts, "and _she_ and I do." He points to Clare. "I mean I've missed _us_ hanging out." He gestures from himself to Clare to me. "All three of us."

"I've missed that too, Adam," Clare states with a slight note of sadness in her voice.

"I concur." I lightly punch Adam with my free hand.

"Alright, enough mushy shit!" Adam pretends to shake off his feelings. "I'm out of here." He gives us a corny salute and exits the auditorium. Clare laughs at his retreating form and I just shake my head.

"So," I squeeze Clare's shoulder. "Would you care to grace me with your presence this evening?" My tone is exaggerated, and I know I'm being completely lame, but Clare grins and it's all worth it.

"I'd love to. What are we doing?"

"Well, I had plans to go to this new bookstore, but if-"

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!"

Excitement lights up in her eyes, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep myself from uttering those three beautiful, yet perhaps dangerous, words.

_**Later…**_

"This place is awesome!" Clare lets go of my hand upon entering the bookshop. She walks through the aisles and skims her fingertips over the spines of the books.

I found this place while on a run a few weeks ago. I took a break from my workout to check things out. The bottom floor houses new books and CDs; the upstairs, however, is the part I know Clare will love.

"Come on, I want to show you something." I lead Clare through the store to a spiral staircase made of iron. When we reach the top of it, Clare looks around and gasps, just like I knew she would. "Cool, huh?"

"Eli, look at all these used books!" Clare takes my hands excitedly and for a moment I think she's going to jump up and down. She's always had a thing for old books; she once told me how she likes how someone else has read the words she's reading. "This is amazing. I really needed to find a new bookstore."

"Really? Why?" The floor seems pretty much deserted. I take her hand and we meander through the aisles.

"Well, um…" she pauses, and I quirk an eyebrow. "A few months ago, things were really bad at home."

I nod, knowing about the changes in Clare's familial situations. I try not to form an opinion on Jake being her stepbrother; something tells me it would be biased.

"Anyway, I felt completely alone. Then I ran into a woman named Summer at my favorite bookshop." Clare spots a reading area and leads me to its small couch. "I felt like no one was listening to me at the time, and Summer did. She seemed to care about me and mentioned that she and her boyfriend liked to help out "troubled teens". She gave me her number and address." She sighs, seemingly nervous about what she wants to say. "To make a long story somewhat shorter, I ended up running away to live with her."

"Wow, things were that awful?" Clare nods. "But Clare, she was a virtual stranger…"

A sardonic laugh escapes her mouth. "I know, but she seemed to care, and I didn't feel like anyone else did at the time."

I swallow. I cared about her. I always have.

"It turns out she and her boyfriend were drug dealers. They trained lost youth to do their dirty work."

"What the hell?" Clare? Drug dealers?

"Let me finish, Eli." She lightly pushes my shoulders then slides her hands down my arms to hold my hands. I swallow my words and nod for her to continue. "I know how stupid it was. I wasn't thinking clearly."

I can't really argue with that. I've been there.

"The night I found out about the drugs involved police, Jake and I with zip-tied hands, and ultimately, my return home." She squeezes my hands. "Say something."

I think carefully. "You were in zip-ties?"

"Eli!" She laughs, and the intensity of the mood is broken.

"What? I'm sorry, but the image in my head is hilarious." I raise my eyebrows. "Do you want to elaborate on this story?"

Clare shakes her head. "Maybe another time. I'd really rather not think or talk about it right now. Anyway, I obviously haven't wanted to return to my old bookstore."

I stand and pull her up with me. "Obviously." We wander through the aisles some more; every now and then Clare stops to inspect a book. She looks at every single one of them with intrigue and intensity. "Clare…"

She looks up. "Yeah?"

"I just…" I pull her into a hug and hold her tightly. "I wish you could have come to me when things got rough at home." I pull back and fix her with a stare. "If you ever need to get away again, Hotel Eli is still open for business."

She smiles. "Only for me, I hope."

I kiss her soft and quickly. "The only vacancy has your name on it."

She tilts her head, and I can't figure out the emotions swimming through her eyes.

"I love you," she states simply, as if the words were both true and long established. I'm not sure what's more pathetic: the facts that my stomach is doing flips, or the uncontrollable, cheesy grin on my face.

"I love you too. I never stopped." She smiles up at me, and the most urgent desire runs through my veins. I take her face in my hands and kiss her gently. She surprises me (as she so often does) by coaxing my mouth open with her tongue, deepening the kiss. Her arms clasp tightly around me; my fingers find themselves tangled in her curls I swear I've never felt anything so soft.I rip my lips from hers to place them on her neck, a move that never fails to get a response. Her breathing gets heavier with each light kiss I place against her pulse point, and when I softly bite her smooth flesh she lets out a soft moan that rids me of nearly all self-control. I kiss her again, it's sloppy and needy, and she gasps in surprise when my hands reach under her ass to lift her up against the bookshelf. The moment is perfect, the most intense kiss I've ever had…and then a book falls to the floor with a thud.

We stop kissing, and I am irrationally angry at a _book_ for cockblocking me. Clare looks at me with wide eyes, coming down from her emotional and physical high. "Eli, we're in public!"

I snort. "You just now realized that?" She looks mortified as she slides down my body and places her feet firmly on the floor. "Clare, it's okay," I sooth. "No one's up here."

"I know, but…oh, fine." She shakes her head and bends down to pick up the dislodged book.

I take it from her hands. "Huh. A William Blake anthology. Cool."

"I love his poems."

"I didn't even realize we were in the poetry section."

Clare scoffs at that. "You weren't paying attention?"

I lean in close and whisper in her ear. "My mind was rather _occupied_ with thoughts of the beautiful girl next to me. You're so into books, Clare." I kiss her ear. "It kind of turns me on." I smirk at the heat I can feel radiating from her skin before she pushes me away.

"You're dirty," she accuses, but her tone is mirthful so I know she's not mad.

I flip through the pages of the William Blake anthology. There are notes in the margins; the previous owner clearly examined the poetry at great length. "They say he was mad, you know. You must have a thing for crazies." My tone is darker than I intend for it to be.

"Eli, you're not crazy." She swipes the book from my hand. "You're brilliant. And so was William Blake."

I smile and take the book back from her; the price tag says its only ten bucks. "I'm getting this for you."

"You do not have to repay me every time I offer you a compliment, Eli." Clare crosses her arms over her chest.

"I know that! Geeze, woman! I just want to buy you a present! Guys are allowed to buy their girlfriends presents, right?"

Clare laughs. "I guess, but don't most girls want jewelry?"

I pull her close and whisper against her lips. "Yeah, but you're not most girls."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed! I appreciate every single alert I get on this story. **

**This is the last "T" rated chapter; so if you can't find it in a day or so, search under "M".**

**I'd like to thank takethecurve for listening to me obsessively babble on and on about this fic. She's amazing. Go read her stories right now.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

"_Don't you let me go, let me go, let me go tonight."-Lykke Li, "Tonight"_

Clare

I tap my foot on the floor at an erratic rhythm and try to keep my eyes open. I'm exhausted and it's only eight-thirty. I've been working three nights a week at the _Toronto Star_ rather than the one night required under my co-op agreement; Asher offered the extra time and all I could think was _resume resume resume._

Eli is clearly rubbing off on me.

My phone buzzes with a text message on my desk. Speak of the Devil:

_Hello, my favorite journalist. How is the article on your fabulous boyfriend's play coming along?_

I roll my eyes. _**I'm not a journalist yet. And…could you BE more smug?**_

It takes him less than a minute to reply: _I think you know the answer to that, Edwards. Still at work?_

_**Yes. Why, do you miss me? :-P**_

I hope he does; with all these late nights, I certainly miss him.

_Maybe ;-) Want to come over when you're done?_

I sigh. I do. I want to see Eli very much, but I'm tired and will definitely just fall asleep at his house if I stop by. _**I really want to see you, but my bed is calling my name. If only you could magically transport yourself and join me in it!**_

I send the text without thinking about its content and blush at its suggestive content. I'm almost nervous when my phone buzzes with his response: _I'll see what I can do about acquiring superpowers. Get back to work. : ) Love you._

My smile is probably nauseating to those who aren't me; I'm glad no one is around to see it. _**Love you too.**_

Currently I'm working on a mock article for Mr. Shostak to look over. It's about Eli's play and the different approach it takes. I mentioned _Romeo and Jules_ to my boss the other night when he inquired about school; he found the concept interesting and told me to cover it for my first writing assignment. I've written about the opposition from some students and the fact that according to all my research, this is the first time a high school in Toronto has done anything like this. Mr. Simpson even granted me a brief interview; he opened up about his gay brother and how happy he is with how much society has progressed since his brother came out. The article is on its second draft; between fact checking and coffee-fetching I haven't had much time to actually _write._

"How's it coming along, Newsie?"

The voice surprises me. I jump a bit and spin around in my chair quickly. "Oh! Mr. Shostack, you scared me."

"Deep in concentration, I see," he chuckles as he sips his coffee. "Clare, you've been working here for weeks. Formalities are really no longer necessary. Please, call me Asher."

My face flushes and I feel a little surge of pride. I must be doing a good job if my boss wants to be on a first-name basis. "Okay, thanks…Asher."

"Is that your mock article?" He gestures to the printed pages I'm madly highlighting and scratching out.

I nod. "I'm only on the second draft. I've wanted to put your immediate requests first, but-"

"Let me see it." He holds out his hand expectantly.

"Um, are you sure?" I hesitantly offer him the pages. "Like I said, it's only the second draft-"

"Shush, Newsie." Asher smiles at me over his coffee cup before beginning to look over my work. My teeth find their way around my nails; I bite them in spite of the bitter blue polish. Asher's brow furrows, and he calmly sips his drink. After he sets the mug down to turn the page, his thumb and index finger stroke his chin. I have no idea what he's thinking, and my heart beats far too quickly with nerves and anticipation. Finally, he speaks. "Newsie…" His voice trails off, and my stomach twists into a rock made of knots. He doesn't like it. "…this is really good. I can definitely see that clarity is the most important thing to you as a journalist."

Oh. Oh, wow. "Th-thank you, sir."

"If you want, I can come to your school and conduct some interviews. Maybe make a piece out of this "Romeo and Jules" event for the paper."

I'm speechless. That would mean so much to Eli. The _Toronto Star_ is a pretty popular news source throughout the city.

"If you want, we can even run _your _article along with it or perhaps condense the two. Share a byline."

I'm surprised my lips are able to move. This is completely unexpected. "That-that would be amazing. Thank you."

"I want to thank you for working so hard and so often. I've never had a pupil go above and beyond like you do. You really are a great asset around here, Clare."

"Thank you, Mr. Shostack." I try to cease the blood rushing to my face and fail miserably.

He chuckles and crosses the space between us to give me a quick hug. I'm surprised; we've barely shaken hands. Just after I smell a whiff of liquor, he pulls away.

"I told you: it's Asher."

_**Later…**_

It's nearly nine-thirty when I get home from the paper. My entire body aches; this busy schedule is wearing me out. Mom and Glenn are watching TV in the living room when I kick my winter boots off and toss them in the closet. "Hi, Mom. Glenn."

"Hi sweetie," Mom calls over her shoulder. Glenn quietly nods. While he and I are certainly amicable, we don't often engage in actual conversation. "How was your internship tonight?"

"Great," I reply. My tone isn't very enthusiastic on account of the fact that I'm _exhausted._ "Asher read my mock article."

"Asher?" Glenn asks, confused.

"My boss."

"Clare!" Mom raises her eyebrows. "You shouldn't refer to your superiors by their first names."

"He told me to." I shrug. "Anyway, he thought it was really good!"

"That's great, Sweetheart," Mom says. It's nice to see her looking proud of me. "Do you have any homework?"

I shake my head. "I finished it on the bus."

"That's my girl. Go upstairs and rest."

I nod and walk toward the stairs, intending to do just that until I literally collide with my stepbrother.

"Ugh! Where did you come from?" I ask in aggravation.

"Me? Why don't you watch where you're going."? Jake crosses his arms and stares me down. Literally.

"You're so skinny there's not much to watch, jerk."

"Oh yeah? Well, you're so short, I just see right over you."

I scowl at him. I hate the short jokes.

"You're an asshole."

"Oh! Someone call that paper you work for! Clare Diana Edwards just _swore."_ Jake starts laughing and I continue to seethe in annoyance. "Geeze, Clare, that look on your face is making this sibling-banter thing difficult."

"Shut up."

"Now, is that anyway to thank me?"

Thank him? "Thank you for what?"

"Oh, not much, just sneaking a surprise into you room."

"Jake, I swear to God, if you put your pet lizard under my pillow again-"

"Leave Harry out of this." His face is serious, and I can't help but crack up. "I didn't put him there. He wanted to visit you."

I roll my eyes, suppressing the memory of a cold-blooded creature licking my elbow. "Then what's my surprise?"

Jake places his hand roughly on my back, steers me to my door, and shoves me through it. I'm not expecting what I see.

Eli. Eli, clad in his black skinny jeans and Dead Hand shirt. Eli, with his hair looking particularly sexy tonight. Eli, in my bed.

_In my bed._

"She's all yours," Jake stage whispers.

Eli laughs. "Thanks for sneaking me in."

I look at the two boys in bewilderment before pointing a finger at Jake. "_You_ snuck him in?"

Jake laughs. "You're welcome." And with that, he leaves, closing the door behind him.

I turn back around and shoot Eli a questioning look.

"Well, it turns out that they don't sell magical-transportation-superpowers at Wal-Mart, but I DID manage to find a way into your bed." He smirks. "Happy?"

"You're just…you're so…"

"Awesome?" He sits up. "Handsome? The best boyfriend ever?"

I sit next to him on the bed. "I'm going to answer all three of those helpful suggestions with a 'maybe'."

He pokes my side. "I'll accept that as an adequate answer. For now." With a glint in his eyes, he leans forward and kisses me quickly.

"I'm tired," I whine. "And want to get into my PJs."

Eli raises his eyebrows. "By all means, go ahead." He scoots up on my bed and throws his hands behind his head. "Change. Don't let my being here stop you."

I push him lightly. A loud laugh escapes his mouth and I put a quick finger to my lips. "Shh. My mother is downstairs."

"Okay," Eli whispers, sliding up and putting his lips on my ear, "we'll be _very quiet_."

The chills that run up and down my spine wake up my tired mind.

"I seriously need to get out of these clothes."

"Fine." Eli throws up his hands. "I'll cover my eyes."

A blush covers me from head to toe at what I say next. "You don't have to."

The look on his face is priceless. I can't tell if his eyes are bugging out of his head or if he's drooling. He simply stares at me as I slowly get up. Locking my eyes with his, feeling bolder than I ever have, I shrug my knee-length tunic off. When I slowly pull my leggings down, I hear Eli gulp loudly. I'm standing in front of him in nothing but my mismatched underwear, bra, and socks, and he's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Clare…" His tone is seductive, but I can tell he doesn't mean for it to be. I finally break eye contact; the moment is too intense (but in all the right ways).

I grab purple sweatpants and my "Degrassi Drama" t-shirt from my dresser and swiftly dress. My eyes are greeted by an amused expression when I glance at Eli.

"What?" I ask.

"You're just so damn sexy."

My blood heats up. "In _this?"_ I tug on my shirt.

Eli reaches out and pulls me down onto the bed next to him. "In everything," he whispers before capturing my lips in a kiss. I return it eagerly, completely forgetting that my mother is likely within earshot. Eli leans back, pulling me on top of him. His hands cup my rear, and they are so, so strong. Just when I think he's going to deepen this kiss, he pulls away and looks into my eyes. "Better stop." He points downward, undoubtedly thinking of my mom and Glenn.

I giggle. "You're probably right."

"It's been known to happen." He kicks his shoes off and slides up my bed. I'm happy at the sight. He's been on my bed since we got back together (the rules in my house have loosened up tremendously since my mom's remarriage), but it's never been like this.

When he holds out his arms, I crawl into them as quickly as I can; fatigue is settling over me again.

"So," he starts, running his thumb along my shoulder blade, "from what I heard…you and Jake seem to have the sibling rapport down pat."

I hesitate; Eli and I don't talk about Jake much. Or Imogen, for that matter. "It's taken a while, but we're definitely getting there."

A few moments of silence pass before Eli speaks up. "May I ask you something?"

"Since you used the proper grammatical phrasing, yes, you may."

"Did you and Jake…did you…"

Oh, God.

"Did you and Jake sleep together?" He winces. "I mean, it's okay if you did, it's really none of my business-"

"No," I cut him off. "We didn't sleep together."

"Oh." He looks visibly relieved, and when my gut clenches, I know I have to tell him the reason Jake and I broke up. But first, I have my own question.

"Did you and Imogen have sex?"

Eli looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "No, Clare. We dated for roughly a week. All we did was kiss."

"Yeah, I saw that, actually." I grimace at the memory. It _always_ hurt to see Eli with Imogen. "In the Zen garden."

"I saw you and Jake kiss _all the time_," Eli retorts.

My lips twist into a sad smile. "Touché."

I take in a deep breath, not ready to voice a truth Eli should know. "Eli, Jake and I didn't sleep together…but we almost did."

Eli doesn't speak, so I try to explain. "I came to the conclusion that waiting for marriage isn't necessarily what I want." I risk a look at Eli, but he only looks mildly surprised. "Everything with my parents…. I just…I realized that marriage isn't a guarantee of anything. And if you want to be close to someone you love in that way, you should be."

"So…you loved him." Eli looks crestfallen, which breaks my heart, but I know I have to be honest.

"I thought I did." I sigh deeply. "But the more I think about it, the more I realize that most of what I felt for Jake at the time was probably transference."

"I'm familiar with the term."

"Oh?"

"Therapy sessions," he explains. "So…you say you 'almost' slept with him. What does that mean, exactly?"

I cringe. "It means that Jake couldn't see himself being with me forever, it means that we were stepsiblings, it means that we weren't meant to be, it means that it was all so very, very wrong."

Eli takes my words in. "Is that why you broke up?"

"Yes." I lean up and kiss Eli's cheek. "And another reason I believe things didn't work out with Jake, Eli, the reason we didn't sleep together, is because…well, because he isn't you." I interlace our fingers. "It's always been you."

Eli's breath hitches and he raises an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Clare?" The way he says my name makes me melt. No one can paint it with more emotion than he does.

"Do you recall the first time we worked on your room? You mentioned Hotel Eli being ready?" I blush at the memory. "And me?"

"Yeah," he says, staring at me intently, "you said 'maybe someday'."

"Well," I kiss him softly, "I'm saying that 'someday' might be soon. If you want it to be."

Eli's face lights up like a kid in a candy store. "Well, I'm a guy and I'm in love with you, so I'd say I'm pretty on board with the idea." He squeezes me tight. "If and when you're really ready."

"I'll let you know," I whisper. Just as I lean in to cover Eli's lips with mine, I hear a knock on the door.

"Clare?" Eli and I abruptly separate at the sound of my mom's voice. "Can I come in?"

"Closet!" I mouth to Eli. He gingerly steps onto the floor and enters what I've designated his hiding spot.

"Yeah, Mom," I call, throwing myself under the covers. The door opens. I hold my breath and hope Eli's doing the same.

"I just wanted to say goodnight, Sweetie." She walks over and sits next to me. "I worry about you working so much, with the paper, and school, and Eli…"

"It's okay, Mom." I smile encouragingly. "I can handle it."

Mom smiles. "When did you become so strong?" She kisses my head and stands. "I love you, Clare."

"Love you too, Mom. Goodnight." My heart is racing. I swear I can hear Eli's breathing. It somehow goes unnoticed by my mother, however, because she exits my room without a word. I wait until her footsteps have faded down the hall before whispering to Eli to come out.

"Wow," he says, running a hand through his hair. "That was close."

I quietly laugh. "Yeah, she's loosened up about boys in my room, but I'm not sure she'd like the sight of one unannounced at ten o'clock at night."

Eli sits next to me and brushes my curls from my face. "I should probably go. Let you sleep."

The thought of him leaving sends a chill of sadness through my heart. I don't know why I'm feeling needy tonight, but I don't want him to go. "Can you stay?" I ask.

His eyes widen. "You want to-tonight-with your MOM here-?"

"No," I chuckle at the dirty place his mind immediately goes to. "I just…can you just hold me tonight? I want to be with you. We can set the alarm and sneak you out early."

Eli's face softens. "Okay. I have my pills, so my parents _shouldn't_ have a problem with it. Will you go get me a glass of water? I'll call them and ask."

I grin widely and kiss his cheek before leaving for the kitchen, where I find Jake eating Peanut Butter Crunch. "You ARE always hungry, aren't you?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"Pretty much," Jake responds with a mouthful of cereal.

"You're disgusting." I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water from the fridge.

"Eli really makes you happy, doesn't he?"

I turn around, full glass in hand. "He does," I admit with what has to be the most girlish grin of all time.

"I knew you were never over him," Jakes states as he takes a bite.

"What? How?"

"I'm Jake." He laughs. "I know things."

I'm confused. "Then why-?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "It's okay, though. I'm happy you're happy."

I smile at him warmly. "Thanks for my surprise, 'bro'."

"Anytime."

When I return to my room, the sight of Eli in his boxers and t-shirt greets me. His pants and jacket are neatly folded on my desk.

"Uh…is this ok?" He gestures at his middle. "I really didn't want to sleep in those jeans, but I will if you feel uncomfortable."

My boyfriend: always a gentleman. "You're fine, Eli." I hand him the glass of water. "So your parents said you can stay?"

He nods and swallows his pills. "Yeah, but Bullfrog said, and I quote, "If your ass isn't at school by homeroom in the morning, I will shove a Backstreet Boys CD up your ass."

"Wow," I say, and soon we're both laughing. "That seems a bit excessive."

"I've missed a lot of school." Eli shrugs, still chuckling.

We crawl under the covers and I turn out the lamp on my nightstand. The streetlight outside leaves a soft glow over us, bright enough for me to make out the contours of Eli's face.

"This is nice," I whisper.

"I'd say that's an understatement," he breathes.

"Eli?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you see us being together forever?" The question comes out fast, and I hold my breath waiting for an answer.

Eli clears his throat. "That was sort of a touchy subject the last time we did this, Clare."

I gesture to our entwined forms. "I don't think we've ever actually done_ this_ before."

He rubs a hand up and down my side. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," I admit. "It's just…will you please answer me? This time, I want to know."

Eli sighs and places his forehead against mine. "I'm not ruling it out."

I grin, a giddiness forming in my belly. "Me neither."

I snuggle in closer to him, my eyelids too heavy to stay open for even a moment longer. I say a quick prayer, thanking God for everything going right in my life: a great boyfriend, a wonderful job opportunity, renewed friendships…I even have a loving family again.

Just as I'm on the edge of sleep, Eli whispers something so softly he must think I'm already dreaming.

_I'm so in love with you._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you so much for your continued support! This chapter is extremely fluffy; enjoy it. Please review if you have the time! As always, you can follow me on twitter at literarylolita and tumblr at cortneycreates dot tumblr dot com.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, William Blake's poem **_**Love and Harmony, **_**or any other pop culture references. **

"_Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep, this air is blessed, you share with me. This night is wild, so calm and dull, these hearts they race, from self control."-Dashboard Confessional, "Hands Down"_

_Eli_

"Baby Boy, wake up." My mother's voice interrupts the very deep sleep I'm enjoying.

"MMph." I roll over and pull my pillow over my head.

"Elijah." Her voice has taken on a rare stern tone.

"Umph." I toss my pillow to the side and sit up. "Fine," I yawn, stretching my arms over my head. "I'm up."

"Guess what?" Cece's voice is bright and bubbly. I've never understood why she's such a morning person.

"What?" I ask as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

"School's cancelled."

"WHAT?" Now I'm _really_ awake. I have an important meeting this afternoon with Simpson and Becky motherfucking Baker. She wants to "discuss" the musical's production and script with an "unbiased third party". Bullshit. She just wants to screw up my play. "Why?"

"Snow. Nearly a foot of it!" Cece's gazing out my window. "It's so pretty."

I join her and frown at the weather's unfortunate turn. "I have that meeting with Simpson and Fred Phelps today." A slightly buried thought pops up and it makes me groan in annoyance. "AND it's Valentine's Day! Clare and I are supposed to go to a poetry reading."

"Eli," Cece reasons, "you can reschedule your meeting. The play isn't for a month and a half."

She's right. But what about Clare? I sigh. We might not be the cheesiest couple in the history of romance, but I know that deep down Clare likes the sappy shit from romantic comedies. (And in all honesty, sometimes I like to BE a sap.) There's no way she doesn't want Valentine's Day to be at least somewhat special.

"I'm pretty sure the reading will be cancelled, Eli," Cece says gently.

I flop back down on my bed. "Great."

"I'm going to go make cookies. I just love baking when it's cold!" She exits and takes her perky mood with her. My phone rings before I can indulge in too much sulking; Clare's face lights up, and the sight slightly improves my mood.

"Good morning," I answer.

She giggles and my stomach jumps. It's a wonderful sound. _"Good morning, Eli."_

"So…no school."

"_Yeah."_ She sounds disappointed. _"I know you were looking forward to that meeting."_

Of course she does. She knows about everything important to me. "I can reschedule that, Clare. I CAN'T, however, reschedule Valentine's Day."

"_Eli, it's okay. We can go out anytime."_

"That's not the point. I want to be with you."

"_I want to be with you, too."_ She sighs. _"Mom and Glenn took a few days off from work; they're at the cabin. Glenn decided to open it for a 'romantic getaway'."_

I laugh at her fake gagging sounds. "So it's just you and Jake walled up in your house from the snowstorm?"

"_No, just me. Jake's actually at Katie Matlin's."_

I raise an eyebrow. "He's at the former school's president house at eight-thirty in the morning?"

"_He was there last night. The snow started coming down pretty hard and her parents let him sleep on the couch."_

"What was he doing there in the first place? Isn't he seeing Jenna?" The dude seriously gets around.

Clare laughs_. "You know, I don't know what's going on with all of that, and to be honest, I really don't care."_ I grin. If I had any doubts Clare had some lingering feelings for Jake, her statement just erased them completely.

I glance at the clock again and groan. "I have to go eat breakfast and take my pills."

"_Okay. Maybe we can have a phone date later?"_ She sounds hopeful.

"Of course, Clare. I'll call you later."

"_Bye, Eli."_

Later that morning, after showering and mindlessly flipping through the channels in the TV room for an hour, an idea hits me.

"Hey, Cece!" I yell. I hop over the couch and into the kitchen.

"Yes, Eli?" She's pulling her cooled cookies off the sheets and placing them on plates.

"Are Bullfrog's old snow boots still around?"

"Yeah, I think they're in our bedroom closet. Why?" She offers me a cookie, but I wave it away.

"Can I borrow them?"

She grins, and I can tell she knows where I'm going with this.

"You're going to walk the mile to Clare's house in all that snow?"

"...Yes."

"Aren't YOU a romantic?" She teases.

"Well," I start, treading carefully. "She's all alone."

"Oh?" Cece sits on one of the stools by our counter.

"Her mom and stepdad are off being romantic and gross like you and Bullfrog-"

"Hey, now!"

"-sorry, but it's true-and Jake got stuck somewhere overnight. I don't want her to be by herself." I walk over to Cece, place my hands on her shoulders, and stare at her with faux drama in my eyes. "It's VALENTINE'S DAY, Mom!"

"You're pulling the 'Mom' card." She rolls her eyes. "You must really need to get laid."

I choke on whatever words I had originally planned on saying. "Mom, we're not-"

"I saw that new box of condoms." She points her finger at me as if to chide me. "You really should learn to zip your backpack."

I groan and sit on the stool next to Cece. "We've talked about it," I admit. "If and when the time comes, I want to be prepared." I look at her, complete honesty on my face. "But we haven't slept together yet."

She sighs and places a hand on my arm. "Baby Boy, just be careful. Please."

I laugh. "Well, that's why I bought the condoms-"

"No, Eli," she interrupts. "I mean with your heart. I truly believe that you are in a better place than you've been since you were little, and I know you and Clare have something special-" a sob forms in her throat and tears well up in her eyes. "But if something goes wrong, I just…if anything happened to you, I'd lose my damn mind."

Guilt courses through me, so I attempt to ease the levity in the room. "I guess then we'd know it runs in the family."

"I'm serious, Eli." She looks at me, pained, and I pull her into a hug.

"Cece, I am so sorry for the times I scared you. I promise, as long as I can help it, I will NEVER hurt you like that again."

She squeezes me tightly before pulling back and nodding. "I guess you better pack a bag then." She wipes away her tears and gestures at the cookies. "I'll pack some of these so you can take them to Clare."

I shoot her a thankful grin. "You're the best."

"I know," she responds with a wink. "Go get ready."

I'm packed, bundled up, and out the door in ten minutes.

_**Later…**_

By the time I reach Clare's doorstep, my teeth are chattering, I can't feel my feet, and my entire face is likely red. The carnations I bought for Clare last night look wilt pathetically in my gloved hands. Cece laughed at me when I told her a little cold air wouldn't harm them much and apparently with good reason. I ring the doorbell, and after what seems like an eternity in the icy air, Clare flings open the door.

"Eli!" She looks surprised but happy.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Clare." I offer her the flowers and smile sheepishly. "I think they're dead."

Her smile reaches her eyes as she takes the flowers and ushers me inside. I numbly kick off Bullfrog's too-large boots and drop my backpack.

"You walked here?" she asks with laughter in her voice.

"Yes," I answer, still shivering. "I didn't want you to be all alone. And I didn't want our Valentine's Day to be completely ruined."

"Well, I just have the most devoted boyfriend ever." She leans up to kiss me, and her lips are so, so warm against my frozen ones. She pulls away in alarm. "Eli, you must be freezing."

"Nah…I'm a man. I can take it." My chattering teeth betray my words, though. Clare marches me upstairs, dropping the flowers on her coffee table along the way.

She leads me into the bathroom, and I'm not entirely sure where she's going with this. I finally stop shivering enough to really look at her and smirk at what she's wearing. "Nice jammies, Edwards."

A blush crosses her cheeks as she tugs on her care bear pajamas pants. "Well, I wasn't exactly expecting company," she says sarcastically. Her arms cross under her breasts, and _oh my God she's not wearing a bra._ I force my eyes away from her boobs and look her up and down. Her hair is half-up and kind of messy, she has either little or no make-up on, and the look on her face melt my heart.

"You're so damn beautiful." I want to touch her, but my hands are still frozen.

She flushes again at my comment, but ignores it and points at the shower. "You. Get in."

I raise my eyebrows. "Care to join me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Keep dreaming, Goldsworthy. The hot water will thaw you out."

She exits the room, hips unintentionally swaying; the sight gives me a problem I take a little too long in the shower fixing.

_**Later…**_

"Oh, GOD, Eli…" Clare moans. "These cookies are SO good…"

She's killing me.

We've spent the past hour or so watching some movie of the week on Lifetime and mocking it senselessly.

"Glad you like them. I TOTALLY made them, by the way." She lays her head in my lap and my hands automatically reach out to play with her hair.

"You are full of so much crap," she declares while she finishes off the cookie. Instead of responding with a witty remark, I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it.

"So, a lazy-snow day-Valentine's Day…" I start. " Best date ever?" We both laugh.

"I've had worse." She sticks her tongue out at me, and dirty thoughts about where I'd like her to put it swim through my mind. She sits up and surprises me by swinging one leg around both of mine and straddles me. My lips are on hers in an instant, and when our tongues tangle she moves against me. I break the kiss to mind attention to her neck; each soft kiss earns me a breathy moan in response. She twitches, seeming to want something more. I just wish I knew what.

The first time we dated, Clare let me touch her…well, everywhere. We never saw each other completely naked, but it's safe to say that we touched every inch of each other before our relationship imploded. I remember the first time I made her cum. One Sunday afternoon I convinced her to make out with me in the back of Morty at the abandoned church, and when my hands teased the thighs under her uniform skirt she didn't stop them from trailing upward. That was the day I found out she wasn't a screamer, but rather an _extremely _sexy moaner. Her face twisted into a look of intense pleasure, and when her back arched off the floor of Morty I wanted nothing more than to make her mine.

The memory of Clare getting off makes me even harder than I already am, and when she leans back and reaches down to squeeze my cock through my pants I can't keep quiet. "God, Clare…" I throw my head back against the couch and she smirks, far too satisfied with the effect she has on me. She slides off of me, and I literally let out a whine of disappointment.

"Where are you going?" I attempt to pull her back onto my lap, but she tugs on my hand.

"My room." The look she shoots me is dangerously suggestive. "You coming?"

I swear we run like the Flash to her room; I have her panting on her back in less than a minute. She rips my shirt over my head and I return the favor.

"Eli," she moans between hot, nearly sloppy kisses. "Touch me."

She doesn't have to ask twice. I trail my kisses down her neck and over her breasts, teasing her nipple with my breath. I continue to kiss down her body; when I reach her hipbones, I rise up and slowly take off her childish pants. She squirms in anticipation, and when I brush her white cotton panties aside her breath hitches.

"Eli…"

I insert one finger in her, then two, and nearly blow my load when I feel how wet she is. And fuck, I want to replace my fingers with my cock. "Clare…" I marvel, pumping my fingers in and out of her. "God, I haven't touched you like this in so long…"

"Shut. Up." Her voice is tight, and when I add my thumb to rub her clit, it doesn't take long. "Eli…OH God…"

I smirk as she tightens around me and bucks against my hand. Stroking her gently, I do my best to help her ride out her orgasm.

She leans back on her pillow and tries to catch her breath. I take in her nearly naked form and don't even bother to hide my staring.

"You're checking me out, Eli." Her voice is still deep from arousal; my cock twitches at the sound.

"Can you blame me?" I want my tone to be teasing, but it sounds far too deep and suggestive. "You're amazing." I lean over her and she pulls my head down for another heated kiss. As it continues, she manages to awkwardly ride me of my sweatpants. I buck my hips against her, trying so hard to show some restraint, but the way she meets my thrusts make it extremely difficult.

"Eli…" Clare gasps when I break the kiss and bury my face in her neck. "Make love to me."

I freeze, sure I haven't heard her right. "Come again?"

She moves my head and forces me to look in her eyes. "I want you to make love to me."

I gulp. "Now? Are you sure?" But I search her eyes with mine and I already know the answer.

"Yes." She kisses me slowly. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time and I want this." Her hands play with the back of my neck and I take a moment to relish in the sensation. "As long as YOU want this," she adds with just a hint of insecurity.

"Are you kidding me?" My eyes light up and I kiss her forehead. "Of COURSE I want this. I just want to make sure you're ready."

"I am. Emotionally and otherwise." She pushes me off her so she can open her nightstand drawer. Inside I see a box of condoms.

My eyes widen at the sight of birth control in my extremely pure girlfriend's pink bedroom. "Damn, you're prepared."

She laughs and opens the box, handing me a condom. I awkwardly pull down my boxers, not missing how her eyes widen at the sight of me. As I roll it on, Clare shimmies out of her panties and I can't keep myself from ogling her amazing body.

I place myself at her entrance, and she holds on to my shoulders. I search her face one last time, looking for any doubts and find none.

She cries out when I push into her, alarming me immensely. "Oh my God, are you okay?" I'm trying not to shake, but everything feels so intense and my nerves are getting the best of me.

"Yes," she says with a wince. "Just…just give me a minute." I lean down and kiss her clenched eyelids and allow her to adjust to my size. It's a damn good thing I got her off earlier, because I can tell there's no way that's going to happen her first time.

"You can move," she whispers.

I do, thrusting in and out of her as slowly as my body allows. It's so hard; she's slick and tight and I just want to bury myself in her as deep as possible. It's been a long time since I've done this. Unfortunately, there's no way I'm going to last for long.

"I love you," I whisper in her ear.

She smiles up at me, and I feel her body relax a bit beneath me. After a moment, her hips start moving with mine, and fuck, I've never felt more turned on.

"God, Clare…" I'm moving faster now, and she doesn't object. She rubs her hands up and down my back, kissing me hungrily. "Eli…" Her voice drips with pleasure, and the sound of my name is all it takes for me to lose it. Her hands hold my slowing hips as I cum hard inside of her. I collapse on top of her soft skin when it's finally over.

"Wow," Clare croaks. I pull out to take care of the condom situation. After tossing it in the wastebasket I curl up next to her, spooning her from behind.

"'Wow' would be right," I agree, kissing her sweaty curls. I stroke her stomach for a bit before I ask her the questions weighing in the back of my mind. "Are you okay? Do you regret it?" I try and fail to keep the worry out of my voice.

She turns around so that she's facing me. "I'm wonderful, Eli." Her hand reaches up to play with my hair and I sigh with relief. "I don't regret it. It was perfect."

I smile. "You know, I always thought this would be planned."

"Sex?" She asks with an arched eyebrow.

I laugh. "Well, our first time." I stroke her side, still in awe that my beautiful girlfriend is naked next to me and that we just made love. "I thought you'd want it to be more special and less spontaneous."

"Eli!" She laughs, but her voice is serious. "Being with you made it special."

I pull her closer as an amusing thought occurs to me. "Clare, do you realize that we just made love for the first time on Valentine's Day? We are complete and total clichés."

Laughter rumbles through her body. "I think I'm okay with it. Just this once."

_**Later…**_

"The snow is starting up again," Clare notes as we wash the dishes. After a short nap and, to my pleasure, another romp in Clare's bed, we made a makeshift Valentine's dinner of frozen pizza and ice cream sandwiches.

"It sure has," I note. It's true; it even looks as if the flurries are mixed with ice. "Good thing I have an overnight back."

She elbows me. "Who says you're allowed to stay over?"

I frown. "But…I thought you'd want me to…and…"

"I'm kidding, Eli!" I scowl and smack her with my drying towel.

When we're done with the chore we head up to her room for bed. I notice the William Blake book I bought her a few weeks ago sticking out from under her pillow. "How did I not notice this earlier today?" I ask when I pick the book up.

"I think you were a little preoccupied," Clare drawls.

"Well, my hot girlfriend was naked, so I think it's understandable that I was distracted." I tickle her side and she smacks my hand away.

I sit up against the headboard and Clare places her head against my clothed stomach. Much to my chagrin, Clare insisted it was too cold to walk around the house naked. "I've been reading it before bed," she says, gesturing to the book in my hands.

"Oh really? Maybe I should read it _to_ you tonight. A little bedtime story." I'm teasing, but her face flushes.

"I'd actually like that."

I open the book and search for the only William Blake poem I'm really familiar with. Clare looks up at me with love in her eyes before closing them.

Clearing my throat, I begin to read:

_Love and harmony combine,_

_And round our souls entwine_

_While thy branches mix with mine,_

_And our roots together join._

_Joys upon our branches sit,_

_Chirping loud and singing sweet,_

_Like gentle streams beneath our feet_

_Innocence and virtue meet…_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is short and I guarantee you will not enjoy reading it. Please believe in me, though. I promise the story has a purpose.**

**TRIGGER WARNING: If you've ever dealt with any type of assault, you may want to skip this chapter. I tried to be sensitive about this subject, but if you have any qualms about my portrayal, PM me. **

**Twitter: LiteraryLolita**

**Tumblr: CortneyCreates**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

**No lyrics for this one.**

Clare

"Eli, stop it!" I am trying to get my books from my locker. Eli has his arms around my waist and keeps trying to kiss my neck. "We're at school!"

"So?" He asks, tickling my sides. My Astronomy text hits the floor as he spins me around and pins me against the cool metal. He's playing dirty; he _knows_ how much I like it when he takes control. "You're not going to be late for class or anything. School's over for the day."

"That's not-" He kisses the spot right under my ear, and I can't stop the gasp that escapes my throat. "-the point."

"Awe, come on, Edwards." I can feel his smirk against my skin and seriously want to smack it off his smug face. "Just give me one kiss."

I roll my eyes. "Fine." He grins before leaning in, and what I intend to be a sweet peck quickly morphs into a mini-make out session. When his tongue skims my lips it takes all of my working brainpower to keep my knees from buckling at the sensation.

"GROSS, guys." Crap, Adam.

I push Eli away. "Oh, hi Adam!" My face is hot with embarrassment. "We were just-"

"Having a moment," Eli interrupts.

"Shut up!" I scold, lightly smacking his shoulder.

"You guys should really think about getting a room," Adam offers. "Take your sex-capades somewhere private."

"You TOLD him?" I'm seething. I know Adam is Eli's best friend, but he's mine, too. I don't want things to become awkward.

"No!" Eli insists. The look on his face tells me he's not lying.

"I was KIDDING!" Adam groans, covering his hands with his ears. "But you two-you-EW GET THE IMAGE OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Adam, be quiet!" I hiss. He's practically shouting.

"Sorry," he says in a much calmer voice. "I'm just…I'm in shock." He eyes my ring-less finger, and I'm surprised that I don't feel even an ounce of shame.

"Awe, come on buddy, this is a HAPPY development." Eli slaps Adam on the back.

Adam surprises me with what he asks next. "Are you okay, Clare?" His face is soft; he seems genuinely concerned. It pleases me that he's asking about my feelings rather than high-fiving Eli like a typical teenage boy.

"I'm wonderful, Adam." I take Eli's hand before adding, "it was actually my idea."

"Yeah," Eli pipes up. "SHE seduced ME."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, please. Like it was SO difficult."

"Wow." Adam rubs the back of his neck, still looking slightly shocked. "Well, congrats on the sex then!"

NOW the boys high-five.

"You two are pigs." My nose wrinkles in disgust.

"I'm getting details later, right?" Adam asks.

"WHAT? No!" I drop Eli's hand in disgust.

"Come ON, Clare!" Adam whines. "I'm eternally single. I need to live vicariously."

"You're not living vicariously through me," Eli states before I can. "Besides, do you really want to think about Clare in that way? Clare, your best friend?"

"Now, when you put it that way…" Adam shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. "No offense Clare!"

I laugh. "Believe me, no offense taken." I shoot Adam a smile to let him know I'm not angry. "I need to go to work guys."

Eli squeezes my hand and gives me a tasteful peck on the lips. "Have fun. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye, Adam."

"Later, Clare!" Adam waves. I can almost hear him begging for those details as I walk away.

On the bus to the _Toronto Star_, I think about Eli. It's hard for me to admit it, but I just can't get enough of him.

He's so sweet when he touches me. Every tender stroke is filled with love, and the look in his eyes is always one of complete adoration. We've made love a few times since Valentine's Day; it just keeps getting better and better.

I take my purity ring out of my purse and play with it. One day I'm going to have to tell Mom that not only did I break my pledge; I also don't regret doing so. I remember thinking sex would be a huge deal, and it is, but not in the way I originally imagined. With Eli, it's wonderful. It's love; it's kindness,; it's passion; it's pleasure. My cheeks flush, thinking of both how Eli makes me feel and the way I know he feels about me. Maybe I didn't wait for marriage, but I certainly waited for the love of my life.

_**Later… **_

"Finally." I press "print", satisfied with my final article on _Romeo and Jules_. I pick up the paper, still warm from the machine, and smile at my work. Soon this will be read by nearly all of Toronto. Eli is going to be ecstatic with the promotion and message.

I notice a duffel bag by the door. The idiot jocks were at the paper this afternoon for an interview. NHL hopefuls are a big deal in Toronto, and the _Star_ wanted to do an exclusive piece on the Ice Hounds.

"You're finished, then?" Asher asks as he walks in, sipping out of his usual red coffee mug.

"It's about time, right?" I grin sheepishly. Asher's been hounding me for weeks to finish perfecting the piece. Tonight is the final deadline; he's coming to Degrassi Monday to interview Eli and Mr. Simpson for his part of the article.

I'm _actually_ going to share a byline with Asher Shostack. All of my dreams are coming true.

"So, Newsie…" Asher walks toward me. There is a mild swagger in his steps. "Have you enjoyed working these late nights with me?" His phrasing of the question rubs me the wrong way, but I shake it off.

"Of course! This is the greatest opportunity I've ever been blessed with." I smile kindly.

"Blessed with?" He takes another step toward me, eyeing my cross necklace before he picks up the pendant. My breath hitches-he is far too close for comfort. "You're religious." It's not a question, but a statement, and its laced with the potent odor of alcohol.

"Y-Yes, sir." I take a step back and he drops the cross.

"You're pure, aren't you?" His eyes are glassy, and I have no idea why he's speaking to me this way out of nowhere.

I run my thumb along my ring finger before I realize the cool, comforting medal no longer rests upon it. "Mr. Shostack, I-"

"It's ASHER, Clare." He's stalking toward me again. "I've told you a thousand times: call me Asher."

"Asher! I'm sorry, Asher…" Before I can further my protests, Asher's mouth is on mine and he tastes so, so bad. I shove his shoulders and he breaks away. "Stop it!" I try to move, but his bigger form blocks my way.

"Why?" His lips are next to my ear. "I've seen the way you look at me. I know you want me like I want you." A shiver runs down my spine at the sensation, and not the good kind that Eli induces when HE whispers in my ear.

"I have a boyfriend," I blurt out. "Eli. He's the director of our school play." Asher backs off with a look of surprise in his eyes. The tension rushes out of my shoulders. I have a boyfriend. Asher respects that.

So why didn't he respect the fact that I'm sixteen and his pupil?

Before I can contemplate that fact further, Asher leans over me again. Both his arms surround my frame, and his wrists are pinned to the desk behind me.

I'm trapped.

"So you've been leading me on?" His lips are on my ear again, and I can't breathe. "You're a cock-teasing little BITCH?"

"What are you talking about?" I whisper. "I don't understand."

"WHY do you think you've been spending all these late nights here?" He's yelling, and I desperately wish we weren't the only two left in the building.

"To learn!" Did I give him the wrong impression? Is this confrontation my fault? Panic sings through my blood, and my brain desperately searches for any possible way out of this nightmare.

"Well, there is a PRICE for what I have to teach!" Asher downs the last of his drink and drops the cup. The shattering sounds of breaking ceramic heighten my fear. My body shakes uncontrollably; his hands are on me, and _oh, God, this is not how it's supposed to feel to be touched. _

"You're so bright…" he kisses my forehead, and bile forms in my throat. "So young…" I try to fight him off, but he is stronger than me. "So beautiful…" His menacing mouth falls on mine, and a scream dies in the back of my throat.

_Dear God, I'm sorry for whatever I've done to deserve this. Please, please help me. _

_Please._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who is still reading this story. I assure you that the last chapter and this one were incredibly difficult to write. Stick with me. **

**This chapter is in Adam's POV. I debated over and over again on how to do this, and this approach is the only one that worked in my head.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

"_Cause your eyes tell the tale of an act of betrayal I knew that somebody did."-The Offspring, "Kristy Are You Doing Okay?"_

_**Adam**_

The last bell of the day rings and all I can think is: _finally. _It's Friday afternoon, the only time of the week I am completely free: no band practice, no musical rehearsal, no immediate need to do homework. My basement couch and X-box are calling my name. I slam my locker door shut then groan when I hear his voice.

"Adam!" Eli's running toward me; he looks a little out of it. "Dude, I need a favor."

I roll my eyes. He would, on the one day I'm off. "What can I do for you, Goldsworthy?"

He blushes, and I know that whatever it is has to do with Clare. I'm thrilled the two of them are back together; it's much easier to be friends with the both of them when they're getting along. And then there's the fact that they were both kind of assholes when the other wasn't in their lives. I love them, but still. The two are either meant to be together forever or never see each other again. Personally, I'm rooting for the first option.

"Clare wasn't at school today."

"Yeah, so?" I walk toward the door and Eli trails behind.

"She's on her period."

"DUDE!" I make a face. "I could have gone my entire life without thinking about that." It's bad enough I have to deal with it; I don't want to think about my best friend being on the rag.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just that she texted me her cramps were so bad she couldn't get out of bed." Eli frowns at the thought.

"And what exactly do you want me to do that relates to this? Do I even want to know?"

"Well," Eli blushes, and I swear to God I'm going to make fun of him for it later. "The last time this happened, I went over to her house after school with ice cream and…well, rubbed her feet and shit. Basically, I was an _awesome_ boyfriend." A cocky smirk paints his face. "But I have a meeting with Simpson and Little Miss Sunshiny Jesus. I can't get out of it."

I gape at my best friend. "So let me get this straight: you want me to take your girlfriend a pint of Ben & Jerry's and give he a massage?"

Eli socks me in the shoulder. "Actually, just the ice cream."

"You can't do this yourself later? And also, man, you're completely whipped." He really is. Eli thinks he's such a badass, and maybe sometimes that's true, but Clare could probably tell him to dress in color for a week and sing show tunes on the street and he'd do it.

He shakes his head. "I have a counseling appointment at 4:30 and my grandma is in town so Cece and Bullfrog and I are taking her out to dinner. And shut up."

"That's really no way to speak to the friend who is going to be an awesome boyfriend FOR you and reap none of the awards." I roll my eyes, giving in. My X-box can wait for an hour. Clare and I are long past due to hang out anyway.

"Thanks man!" Eli pulls me into a quick bro-hug and bolts down the hallway, reminding me that Clare's favorite flavor is 'Half Baked' over his shoulder.

I don't bother texting Clare that I'm coming over; we show up at each other's houses unannounced all the time. Same goes for Eli. I grab an extra pint of ice cream at the store, craving the sweet goodness myself. I know Clare well enough to know that despite how generous and loving she is she does NOT like to share ice cream.

I reach her house and knock on the door. No answer. I ring the doorbell. No answer. Huh. I shrug, figuring I can tell Eli that I tried.

Just as I turn around, I hear the door open. When I pivot and look at my friend, I don't like what I see.

I expected her to be in sweats for the reason she stayed home. It's no surprise that she doesn't have make up on. I expected her to be grumpy.

I didn't expect her to look completely distraught with dried tears all over her face.

"Adam," she chokes out. "It's just you." She opens the door a little wider and I march in.

"Clare, what the hell happened? What's wrong?"

"I-it's…it's nothing." She's trembling, and I can see her attempting to hold back tears.

"What did you mean 'it's just you'?" I frown and follow Clare when she walks into the kitchen. I sit the ice cream on the table and sit in the seat next to the one she's chosen.

"Nothing. I thought you might be-never mind." She shakes her head. "Why are you here, anyway?"

I smile and gesture to the grocery bag. "I'm just your loyal boyfriend's masterful sidekick. Ice cream duty. Eli wanted to bring this to you himself, since he's all lovestruck and whatnot, but alas! He's too busy."

A smile graces Clare's face. It's half-hearted, though, and I'm officially worried.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you, though."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're not digging in yet."

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm just not very hungry."

Something is _definitely_ wrong. Whenever Clare and I go out to eat, no matter how much we consume, she doesn't turn down dessert.

"Clare…" At the sound of her name, she bursts into tears. She's a crying, blubbery mess, and I don't know what to do. "Clare…" I awkwardly pat her back. "Clare, it's okay…"

"No," she sobs, "it's not. Ugh." She gets up and runs into the living room. I follow her once again; she's grabbed a box of tissues and is sitting on the couch.

"Clare, buddy, you need to use your words," I tease. Maybe if I make her laugh the crying will stop. "You know, those things you're so good with?"

MY words just make her sob harder. Man, I suck at this comforting thing.

"Adam-I can't-breathe."

I take her hands in mine. The gesture isn't romantic; it's meant to be comforting. Suddenly my mind flashes back to when I was trying to be Gracie. Clare and I sat in this very position, but her hands were the ones comforting mine that time. "Is it Eli?"

"No," she wails. "He's wonderful. He made you bring me ice cream, for crying out loud!"

Her sobs continue, and I continue guessing what could have upset her this badly. "Is it Jake? Your mom? School? Alli?" She shakes her head at all my suggestions. I rack my brain, searching for possible answers. She was fine, HAPPY even, just twenty-four hours ago. We were joking around before she had to go to her internship…

Her internship. Something in my gut tells me this is it. And the way she's acting…I know Clare cares about perfection and excelling in every damn thing she does, but…

"Clare, what happened at work last night?"

By some miracle, she's calmed down a bit. Her eyes refuse to meet mine, but she finally gives me an answer. Sort of. "I can't tell you," she whispers.

"Why not?" I frown. Even when she and Eli were broken up, Clare and I told each other almost everything. "You can tell me anything. Clare, you're my best friend, and to be honest, it sucks seeing you like this."

She removes her hands from mine and pulls her knees to her chest; her arms wrap around her legs and she rocks back and forth. "He said he'd do it again if I told anybody. He said he'd ruin me and my future."

He? Who's 'he'? "Who said that, Clare?"

"Asher." Her voice is small and she sounds so, so broken.

"Mr. Shostack? Your mentor?" Clare slowly nods, and I stand up, fuming. My mind is running through all sorts of horrible, unfortunate scenarios. What the fuck did this creep do to my kind, wonderful friend? I pace back and forth for a few minutes before kneeling next to Clare, my fists clenched and turning my knuckles white. "What did he do, Clare?"

She looks into my eyes with her red ones. "You can't tell anyone," she croaks out.

"Fine," I lie. "I won't tell anyone, so long as you tell ME."

She turns her face, seemingly unwilling to look at me. "Last night, I was at work late…" she hiccups and breathes unevenly. "Ash-Mr. Shostack-he, he was drunk. I didn't realize it until he was close."

Jesus Christ. "Go on," I urge, even though I'm positive I don't want to hear this story.

"He always drank out of this old, red coffee mug." She frowns. I'm not sure what the fuck this dude's dishes have to do with what Clare's telling me, but she's staring off into space, so I don't interrupt her thoughts. "He ALWAYS grinned at me over it. I should have known there was something sadistic behind that smile."

"Clare," I say gently, "what did he do to you?"

She begins to sob again but manages to spit out her story between heaving and shedding tears. I sit on the floor with my hands under my legs to keep from breaking something.

"He said really inappropriate things. He-he kissed me." My eyes widen. "Adam, I didn't want it! He kept saying I wanted him, and he wanted me, and he-he touched me."

That fucking pervert. I want to kill him. "Where did he touch you?" I ask carefully.

"Everywhere," she cries. "He just kept kissing me, even though I kept my lips clamped shut. He…he tore my shirt off and…he used his mouth on me." I don't want to hear this. My face is red with anger. "He tore my underwear off, and he touched me. It hurt…he was so, so rough. And it was nothing like…I hated it. I tried to move, Adam, I tried to fight him off, I really did!"

I nod. "I know, Clare. I know."

"He just…he said he wouldn't stop until I did it to him."

Oh my God.

"I refused, so he pulled my hair and forced me to watch him-don't make me say it, Adam."

"I won't." I have the image in my head, though: Clare watching with wild, scared eyes as this goddamn prick of a perverted man jerked off.

"He said if I told anyone he'd make sure I never set foot in a journalism setting again. He said he'd use his media connections to persuade the people of Toronto that Degrassi was immoral and he'd effectively shut down the play."

"Clare, none of that matters. You need to report it." I stand and again begin to pace.

"I can't!" She starts rocking back and forth again. "He didn't rape me."

"SO?" I sit next to her and force her to look at me. "He MOLESTED"-we both flinch at the word. "He harassed you, Clare. He took advantage of you, in more ways than one. He's a fucking bastard and needs to be punished." I'm horrified that Clare thinks that just because she wasn't raped, what happened to her doesn't warrant justice.

"But…there's no evidence." She weeps quietly.

"It doesn't matter. You have to say something. Go to the head of HR."

"How can I tell anyone about this, Adam? He'll ruin me. He'll ruin Eli's play." Her face falls, and if I didn't love her so much I'd shake her by her shoulders in frustration.

"First of all: you need to report this, not only because what he did is fucked up and wrong, but because if you don't say something, he could do it to some other poor girl."

She's silent for a minute. "I didn't think of that."

"Second of all: even if the douche does somehow manage to shut down the musical, Eli isn't going to give a shit. When Eli hears about what happened-"

"NO, Adam!" Clare looks horrified. "You absolutely cannot tell Eli about any of this!"

THAT throws me for a loop. "What? Clare, YOU need to tell him. He's your boyfriend and he loves you."

"Exactly." She sighs and runs her hands up and down her arms. "He'll lose his mind."

I look at her darkly, and know why she's using that particular phrase. "This isn't going to set Eli off, Clare. He's stable." But even as the words leave my lips, I'm not convinced of them.

"I can't take that chance, Adam." She looks at me pleadingly. "He has too much going on. Remember what he did to Fitz, the boy who just JOKED about sleeping with me? Imagine what he'll do when he finds out that Asher-that he-that he-" She begins to cry heavily again, and I have no idea how her tear ducts aren't all dried up. "Promise me, Adam."

I sigh. "I won't, but you should."

"I will. Eventually."

"I won't tell him on one condition: you report this asshole. Today."

Her body trembles. "I can't."

"You can," I insist. "I'll go with you."

Clare freezes for a moment and fixes her face into one of deep concentration. "Asher can't do this to anyone else."

"No. He can't." My fists clench again, trying so hard to get the image of some middle-aged fuckwad violating my friend out of my head.

"Then I'll do it. I'll report him." Her eyes widen as she looks at me with panic. "You'll come, right? You won't leave my side?"

I unclench my fists enough to pull her into a hug. She flinches, but only for a second. "I'll be there."

"Okay," she whispers. "I'll go get ready."

When I hear her door slam upstairs I punch the back of the couch until my knuckles are streaked with an angry red.

_**Later…**_

Clare's all cried out, and she's magically pulled herself together. It amazes me that even while distraught, if Clare sets her mind on something, she does it. We sit in front of the _Toronto Star_'s head of Human Resources. The shiny gold plate on his desk reads **MR. SAMUEL BAKER**. He swivels in his chair and peers at Clare curiously. She's just recounted the entire story of what happened to her with much more clarity than when she told me earlier. As her friend, I've never been more proud.

"Miss Edwards," Mr. Baker starts, "What you're accusing your boss, the acclaimed journalist Mr. Asher Shostak of, is incredibly serious."

Clare blinks. "I know," she says. "That's why I'm reporting it."

Mr. Baker sighs, and my gut clenches in a bad feeling. "Unfortunately, Miss Edwards, Mr. Shostack came to me this morning with his OWN story."

Clare tenses and her cheeks visibly pale. "Pardon?"

"He came to me with concern over his mentor-pupil relationship with you." Mr. Baker taps his pen on his desk, and for some reason the sound annoys the piss out of me. "He told me you were upset last night. Apparently he informed you that there was no room in the paper for the article the two of you wrote together?"

"What?" Clare's eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. "It hasn't even been written yet. Ash-" she pauses to correct herself "-Mr. Shostack hasn't interviewed anybody at my school yet. The byline wasn't supposed to appear in the paper for weeks."

"Yes, and he told me that he regretfully informed you he no longer had the time to cover the story." Mr. Baker keeps tapping his pen on his desk. I want to rip it from his hand and throw it across the room. He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. "He claims that you threw yourself at him in an attempt to get him to change his mind. He says that you've been flirting with him inappropriately for weeks."

"What?" The calm, cool and collected Clare from five minutes ago is gone. She is completely irate. "That is NOT true-"

"Miss Edwards," Baker interrupts her rant before it can even begin. "I must tell you that the company has to side with the senior party on this matter. He came forward before you did, and you said yourself that there is no physical evidence of what you claim he did to you." He gathers some papers together and staples them. "Your coming in here today made this easier. I'm afraid we have to fire you on account of Mr. Shostack's complaint." He hands Clare the stack of papers, and I grab her hand to drag her out of there before I do something drastic, like, say break every bone in Mr. HR Asshole's body. This paper REALLY knows how to pick its staff. I'll be sure to tell Mom to cancel our subscription.

I keep holding Clare's hand until we reach a small park. We numbly sit at a picnic table. Snow falls around Clare's stoic face; she appears to be all cried out.

"I got fired," she says, breaking the temporary silence.

"Clare, this whole situation is BEYOND fucked up. I'll talk to my mom, we can get you a good lawyer-  
"No, Adam," Clare says firmly. "I don't want to go through all of that. I don't want my parents to know. Or Eli." She takes a deep breath. "Or anyone else but you."

I don't want this burden and don't agree with Clare's choices on this matter whatsoever, but when she looks at me and demands my secrecy, I give in.

The knots in my stomach twist again as bile rises in my throat. I bend over and stain the snow-covered ground with my vomit.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Wow, was Waterfalls an epic episode or what? BRAVO to the Degrassi team, especially Aislinn Paul.**

**Thanks for reading this fic. This chapter was difficult to write. Special thanks to musiksnob for helping me work this part out. The next chapter is what I think of as the "climax" and there are two more chapters after that. Reviews are always appreciated, and as usual, you can follow me on twitter at literarylolita and/or tumblr at cortneycreates.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, the work of William Blake, or any other pop culture references.**

"_We all got wood and nails, and we turn out hate in factories. We all got wood and nails, and we sleep inside of this machine."-Brand New, "Jesus Christ"_

_Eli_

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings;  
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:  
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;  
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:  
For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." Connor (as Prince Escalus) gives the last speech of the final act, and the chorus erupts into a somber, reprise of a number.

We've finally done it: we've run through the entire play without stopping. The execution was rough, but we'll get there. For the first time since the beginning of the semester, I feel as if I can BREATHE when it comes to this project.

"Okay, guys! That's great!" I say. My meeting with Simpson and Becky a week ago resulted in the drama club using the original dialogue for the musical; some pronouns have been switched, of course, but it works. It irritates me to no end that Simpson forced Becky and me to compromise on ANYTHING, but Shakespeare's dialogue and words weave together more eloquently than anyone else's ever has-or will. "Wonderful job, guys! Be off book by Thursday. We open in three weeks!"

"Wait everyone!" Ugh. Becky's voice grates through my brain. "I have an announcement to make."

"You do?" I ask in annoyance. "What now, Baker?"

"Mr. Simpson?" Becky gestures to the door. Simpson is standing there and doesn't look happy. "Would you care to share the news with the drama club?" Little Miss Sunshine's grin is living up to my nickname for her; something's not right.

Simpson sighs and steps forward. "Tristan, can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

Tristan looks at me with a confused expression. I shrug. It's not like I have any idea what the hell is going on.

The two exit and I look at Becky with a raised eyebrow. "What the fuck is this all about?"

"Let's just…" she hesitates and a flicker of nervousness cross her features. "Let's just wait for Mr. Simpson."

Everyone mulls about for five minutes or so before Simpson re-enters the auditorium alone. "Come on, guys." Simpson sighs and we form a circle of sorts around him. "I'm really, really sorry to do this. I assure you my hands are tied." He takes a deep breath and looks at the ground. "The school board came to me this morning with a petition. Only one person voted no on their decision."

An edge grows in my posture. "In WHAT decision, sir?"

"The decision that the play cannot have two male leads." I, along with nearly everyone else in the room, gasp.

"Sir, you have to be kidding-"

"Eli, I'm sorry," Simpson interrupts. "They threatened to cut off all funding for all the arts programs in the school unless things changed. One affluent donor, in particular, was particularly adamant." His eyes flash toward Becky. I form my fists into tight balls and try like hell not to explode. "We either put on the play their way or not at all."

"We open in weeks!" Dave cries.

"This is so not fair to Tristan," Adam chimes in.

"Principal Simpson believes this is the best decision for everyone involved!" Becky pipes up.

"Oh, Becky, shut the fuck up." Everyone stares at me in shock. It says something about Simpson that he doesn't immediately reprimand me or give me a detention. "This is all your doing and you know it."

"Back to the play," Adam starts, careful to avoid confrontation. "Who will play Jules-_Juliet _if not Tristan? Like Dave said, we open very soon."

Simpson stares at Becky with contempt. "Becky Baker. She helpfully already knows all of the dialogue."

A dark chuckle escapes my throat. "Oh of COURSE she does." I turn toward the venomous bitch and scream at her. "This was your plan all along! THIS is why you wanted the original dialogue; not because 'Shakespeare shouldn't be rewritten'!"

Becky sighs. "Eli, it's not my fault that I happen to know-"

"This is ALL your fault." I turn toward Simpson and beg my case. "Sir, PLEASE-"

"I might agree with you, Mr. Goldsworthy. I did, in fact, think _Romeo and Jules_ was in inspired decision. Unfortunately, like I said, my hands are tied." Simpson sighs as he leaves the room. He pauses at the door and looks back. "I'm truly sorry."

The room is quiet for a few minutes. No one seems to know what to say, and then I remember: Tristan. The kid's probably distraught. I slam my clipboard on the ground and stalk out of the room to find him, making sure to harshly bump Becky's shoulder in the process.

"Tristan!" The kid is walking with determination down the hallway. "Tris! Wait up!"

"What, Eli?" He spins around and the tears in his eyes nearly bring some to my own. This twist in events may be fucking up my future, but Tristan's the one who's truly been done wrong. "Look, no hard feelings. I know this has absolutely nothing to do with you." I'm surprised the kid's able to get the words out; he's crying in earnest now.

"Tristan…" He sits on the ground. I follow suite and we lean against the lockers.

"I know how important this was to you," he gets out between sobs.

"This isn't about me anymore," I say darkly. "This is wrong. This is beyond fucked up. I could just…Becky is a terrible bitch of a human being."

Tristan laughs through his tears and holds up a gospel hand. "Preach!"

"This isn't over," I vow. "I will fix this."

"It's too late, Eli." He groans and bangs his head against the cool metal behind us.

"No, Tristan." I take his hand and squeeze it. "Trust me. It's never too late."

_**Later…**_

"Thank you so much for doing this," I tell Clare. I lean over to kiss her cheek. She tenses, but I brush it off. It's been a stressful few weeks for her. Her co-op ended early due to budgeting and scheduling conflicts. To compensate, she's been working extra hard on the school newspaper and has taken over the prop department in drama club. It's been nice having her around, but something's off with her. Can't quite put my finger on what, though.

"It's no problem, Eli." Clare prints the latest issue of the _Degrassi Daily_ and we gaze down at her work.

My beautiful, amazing girlfriend has written an article about just how important this play is. Not only will the piece appear in tomorrow's _Degrassi Daily_, but Clare, Adam and I are going to make copies of the article and hang it all across the city: LGBT centers, gyms, coffee shops, anywhere that gives us permission to do so.

A community outcry for justice might tie Simpson's hands in my favor.

"It's too bad this couldn't have been in the _Toronto Star_," I lament.

Clare freezes, and I can't help but feel as if I've said something wrong. "I'm sorry about that," she says curtly.

I walk over to her and pull her into my arms. She neither pushes me away nor hugs me back. "I didn't mean it like that, love." I kiss her curls and she finally embraces me. "I just wish your name could have been in that paper."

"Me too," she whispers. "But it's better this way. We'll make this happen the way it's supposed to, Eli." Her face is full of such determination that I believe her.

"Let's call Adam," I suggest. "We need to get this out there."

_**The next day…**_

Clare

"Clare, this is amazing!" Alli waves the copy of the _Daily_ in her hands. "You just…you wrote this so well! People are going to react."

"That's the plan," I say forcefully. "This play is important. To be cliché and trite: the show MUST go on." Alli laughs before confusion takes over her face.

"Why did you put the part with the hockey team in here, though?" Alli furrows her brow as we sit on a bench in the Zen garden. "What do they have to do with it?"

"A lot more than you'd think," I droll. "Simpson wouldn't say exactly WHO threatened to cut funding to the school, but we all know it was Becky and Luke's parents. They're loaded."

"Really? I didn't know that." Alli wrinkles her nose.

I smirk. "A journalist has her ways of finding and exposing the truth." Actually, I'd just heard Becky and Jenna talking about the Bakers' "old money" in the restroom. "Alli, nearly every member of that hockey team has slammed this production from its inception. They're against it and have literally given no reason as to why. Mike Dallas, their ringleader, seems to be particularly hostile about the whole ordeal."

"The Ice Hounds are important to the school though," Alli cautions. "They're putting Degrassi on the map, even if that Dallas kid and his sidekicks ARE asses."

"I don't really give a fuck," I respond, and Alli gasps.

"Clare!"

"Sorry, I'm just…" Mad? Hurt? Angry? Traumatized? I don't know what I am, but whatever emotion I'm feeling is definitely one of the negative varieties.

I can't do anything about what _he _did to me, but I can do something about the complete and utter nonsense going down in my school. I can make SOMETHING right. "What I wrote needs to be heard."

"I agree," Alli nods. "I'm proud of you. I've got to get to the lab, though. Text me later!" She kisses my cheek and flounces off to cure cancer. I roll my eyes; I may be "good at being the smart one", but Alli's the real genius between the two of us.

Just as I'm about to stand and head for home, I hear Mike Dallas' voice.

"Yo, Edwards!"

I look up at him. Mike Dallas and I have literally never once exchanged words with one another. "What do you want?"

"I want you to retract your damn article." He sits next to me on the bench and I consciously scoot further away from him.

"Well, I want world peace," I shrug dramatically. "But unfortunately you can't always get what you want!" I stand but he grabs my wrist, roughly and-

_-please, Asher, stop!-_

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I yell, wrenching myself from his grasp. Tremors run through my body and I have to remind myself to breathe. The few students remaining by stop and stare; my chest heaves up and down.

_Stop it, Clare. You're fine. You can't do this now._

"Whoa, calm down." Mike stands and motions for us to walk toward the gates. "I really need you to put a stop to all this talk you've incited, Clare. You're words make me and my boys look like really intolerant assholes."

"Well, maybe if you didn't ACT like such intolerant assholes, no one would have noticed and written an article in the school paper about it," I retort. "Oh, did I mention that my best friend, boyfriend and I made copies? We've posted them all over town. The play WILL go on as originally scheduled. People will lash out against your intolerance. I guarantee you there will be a way."

"And I can guarantee YOU that there will be no queer-ass play put on at any school I attend."

I stop in my tracks. "What is your problem with the play, anyway, Mike?" I raise an eyebrow before continuing. "I unfortunately understand why Becky has issue with homosexuality, but from what I've heard, you aren't exactly a God-fearing man. What's your deal?"

Mike stares me down, and his predatory glare sends me back to _that night. _I don't want to think about this. I CAN'T think about this.

_NOT NOW, Clare._

"Let me tell you a story, kid."

I sigh and nod. Maybe his story will get my mind off of mine.

_Maybe I can forget _his _face for a while._

Mike sits on the curb and gesture for me to do the same. I do, and he begins his tale. "Once upon a time, there was a happy family of three. Mom, Dad, kid." He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "My family."

"Yeah, I got that." I roll my eyes.

"When I was three, my dad cheated on my mom."

Oh. "Mike, that's awful…"

"Let me finish." He takes in a deep breath and sighs. "With a man. He contracted HIV and gave it to my mom before taking off with his fag lover."

I gasp. "Mike…"

"My mom died when I was nine. I bounced from foster home to foster home all over Winnipeg until my hockey talents were noticed. I've been living with billet families ever since. I'm happy now."

"Well, that's good, Mike. I'm glad you're happy." Knowing what he's been through, I actually mean it. "I know how hard your dad's betrayal must have been; my dad cheated on my mom too."

"With a fag?"

"No, Mike." I sigh. "Listen, you do realize that your dad could have cheated on your mom with a woman and the same thing could have happened? It has nothing to do with him being gay."

"Bullshit. Fags are bad news. They're life-ruiners, and I don't want to be a part of a school that supports them and all of their butt fucking."

I stand up and fume. "You're so blinded by bitterness and hate that you can't even SEE!" I yell. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, Mike," my voice softens. "I really am. It's completely horrible and unfair and you were just a little boy. You didn't deserve to go through any of that. But I am NOT retracting my article. I have to stand up for what I believe is right."

"Oh yeah?" He stands and stares down at me. "How about this: if you don't put at stop to the motion your little worded stunt has started, I'll tell your little emo boyfriend and everyone else about you fucking your boss."

Bile rises in my throat and I force it down. "What are you talking about?" I manage to choke out.

"The other night. I did an interview for that stupid paper you work at."

_The hockey bag._

"What exactly did you see?" Sobs are forming in my throat, but I do my best to contain them.

"Just that you and your boss were having a VERY good time." He smirks and looks triumphant.

"If you saw anything, then you KNOW it wasn't consensual!" I hold my stomach to support myself; I feel as though I can't stand.

"Yeah, so? Well if you don't retract your damn article, I will tell everyone a different tale."

"What is wrong with you?" I cry. "If you saw him-if you saw him touch-if you saw us, why didn't you STOP IT?" I'm sobbing with big, crocodile tears now; there's no hiding it.

"Because, Clare." He spits on the ground again. "It was none of my damn business. Just like what me and my team think and say is none of yours."

"You're a monster," I seethe. "Do what you want. I'm not retracting my article." With that, I turn my back on him and stalk away.

_**Later…**_

I numbly walk through the door of my home and head for my room on autopilot. No one's home.

I have to figure out a way to tell Eli what happened to me before he hears it from someone else.

Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve any of it?

I sit on my bed and feel something hard under my pillow. I retrieve it: the William Blake anthology Eli bought me what feels like a lifetime ago.

I open the book to a random page and notice the previous owner's highlighted lines:

_Soon after she was gone from me,_

_A traveller came by,_

_Silently, invisibly:_

_He took her with a sigh. _

The words send me into a tailspin of despair; I curl into a heaving mess in the fetal position. All I can see or hear is _him,_ ripping the joy from my heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed. My story has a graphic now thanks to the wonderful Only Here In Your Arms! This chapter might come off as a bit cliché, but I tried my best. Two more after this. Keep in mind that this is NOT necessarily what I think is going to happen on the show, it's just a plot in my head.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any other pop culture references.**

"_When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide where I stop, and I turn, and I go for a ride til I get to the bottom and I see you again."-The Beatles, "Helter Skelter" _

_Eli_

"Thanks again for this, Fiona. You too, Drew." I look around the loft, and the stage is perfect: purple and turquoise balloons, pretty twinkly lights, and a giant-ass cake made with Cece's buttercream frosting. Clare's surprise party is going to be EPIC.

"No prob, chum!" Fiona smiles. "I'm always happy to host soirees!"

"Uh," Drew looks confused. "What's a soiree?"

Adam slaps the back of Drew's head. "A party, dumbass."

Drew pushes his brother. "Well, then why didn't she just SAY that?"

I roll my eyes at the lot of them. "Seriously, though, thank you. Clare's just been a little off lately, and I really want to surprise her with something fun." I notice Adam stiffen, but he doesn't say anything. Before I can ask what's wrong, Drew has an enthusiastic announcement.

"I'm going to set up the keg!" Drew yells as he exits the living room for the kitchen.

I shoot Fiona a look. "Are you sure you're okay with beer being at this party? It's not too late to get rid of it."

Fiona places a hand on my shoulder. "It's fine, Eli. I'm doing really well." She wrinkles her nose. "Besides, beer has never been my taste. It might be a different story if we were having wine and/or champagne, but I can be around nasty, cheap keg-fluid and easily pass it up."

"You always did have good taste!" says Adam. He and Fiona exchange a warm glance, and I'm suddenly really glad they're somehow friendly again. I wonder if this is what Adam felt when Clare and I got back together: relief.

Party guests begin to arrive and I take that as my cue to go pick up Clare. "I'll be back soon, guys! Birthday girl in tow."

"Text us so we know to turn out the lights!" Fiona reminds me as I leave.

Driving Bullfrog's car across town, I peer nervously at the small package in the passenger's seat: Clare's birthday present. I hope she doesn't think it's too much. When I pull up in front of her house, she's already standing on the curb, waiting for me. She looks gorgeous, but I can't help but notice her tired eyes when she climbs in the car. "Good evening, Beautiful."

The blush forming on the apples of her cheeks matches her pink sweater. She picks up the wrapped package. "Hi, Eli." I lean over and kiss the corner of her mouth.

"Happy Birthday." I gesture to the gift in her hands. "Go on, open it."

"You didn't have to get me anything," she says softly as she unties the ribbon. She gasps upon lifting the lid of the box. "Eli…this is lovely." I look at the bracelet; the brown cord it's made of matches her usual watch. There is a silver plate in the middle with a lyric from "Tunnels" engraved into it: _"As the day grows dim, I hear you sing a golden hymn."_

"You really like it?" I ask in a hopeful tone.

She hands me the piece of jewelry and holds out her wrist. I put it on her, taking a little more time than necessary to keep touching her soft skin. "I love it." She kisses me quickly and we drive to the loft in comfortable silence. She looks at me with a confused expression when we arrive, thinking we're going out for a simple dinner. "Why are we at Fiona's?"

"Oh, I forgot my wallet on her coffee table," I say in what is probably an overly casual voice. "Want to come up with me and say hi? I think Imogen's here too." She shrugs and I quickly text Fiona before exiting the car. We ascend the stairs hand in hand, and when I open Fiona's door, lights flick on and a chorus of "Surprise!" echoes throughout the space.

Adam rushes across the room and pulls Clare, who looks pleasantly surprised with a thousand-watt smile on her face, into an embrace. "A party! Yay!" Clare laughs as she hugs him back before turning to me.

"You did this," she accuses playfully.

I shrug. "Not alone. I had some help." I gesture at Fiona, who has her arm around Imogen, and Drew, who much to my chagrin, is busy making out with Bianca. "Oh, and this one helped a little too." I nudge Adam's shoulder.

"Hey!" He defends. "I blew up ALL of these balloons!"

Clare laughs and the sound is joyous to my ears; I haven't heard it much lately. "I appreciate it."

Adam grins and heads for the keg. Jake and Katie approach us. "Happy birthday, Sis." Jake pulls Clare into a hug, and I'm pleasantly surprised that no jealousy or repulsion courses through my body.

"Thanks!" Clare wiggles out of his grasp and puts her arm around me. I copy her movement and she leans up to whisper in my ear. "Can we go talk for a second?"

I shoot her a puzzled look, but nod. Her face has fallen, the smile from just a moment ago long gone. We enter Fiona's bedroom, and when Clare closes the door and throws herself into my arms, I can't help but feel a little turned on at the feeling of her warm body pressed against mine. All thoughts of talking fly right out of my head.

It's been a while since we've been alone, so I push her away gently in order for my mouth gain access to hers. I kiss her, softly at first, and then her lips move tentatively against mine. My mouth probes hers open, and I guide us towards the bed. The back of Clare's knees hit it and she falls backwards with a soft laugh. I crawl on top of her, smirk in place, my hands beginning to explore her amazing body. She stiffens a bit, and I slow down, reminding myself that physical affection is still fairly new to us. She tangles her fingers in my hair, and when she pulls on the strands, I slowly move my hand over her breast. I don't expect the alarming reaction the action receives.

"NO!" She pushes me off of her with more force than I knew her capable of. "DON'T TOUCH ME." She runs into the corner and shrinks into a ball, sobbing her eyes out. I'm alarmed and don't know what the fuck I've done wrong or why my girlfriend looks simultaneously crestfallen and terrified.

"Clare?" I gently say her name while walking over to her slowly. "Clare, what's wrong?" She continues to sob; her entire form is shaking. "Baby, what did I do?" I nervously touch her shoulder.

"I…I'm sorry, but I just can't!" I'm knocked onto my ass as she flies out the door. I immediately follow, and the sight of matching red jackets is most certainly not welcome. How do they even know about the party? It's clear that the last thing this apparently unsuccessful event needs is a team of assclowns. Clare is frozen by her cake, staring at Dallas with terror. I know the douche has given her some hell for the article she wrote for me; he needs to get the fuck away from her, especially on her birthday.

I walk over to my girlfriend and she pulls my arm into a death grip with her icy hand. "Eli," she whispers. "Listen-"

"Hey, asshole!" I snarl, interrupting Clare. My glare fixes on Dallas. "You weren't invited. Do you know where the door is, or should I walk you to it and let it hit you on your ass on your way out?"

Dallas raises his arms and gestures around the loft. "It's a party. Me and my boys are ALWAYS invited to parties."

Clare's grip somehow becomes more forceful and I turn to see her trembling. This guy must have bothered her more than I realized. My blood boils at the sight of her so visibly shaken.

"Look, haven't you done enough damage?" I shoot Dallas a menacing look. Jake and Katie come stand next to Clare and me, and the look in Jake's eyes likely mirrors my own.

"Oh, you stupid, homo loving, emo kid," Dallas laughs. My fists clench in fury. "Why don't you just shut your damn mouth?"

"What is your major damage?" Katie asks. She steps forward and I notice Jake take her hand, trying to keep her by his side. "You and your stupid fellow jocks have done nothing but spread hate since you got to Degrassi."

Dallas literally spits on the ground of Fiona's expensive carpet. I hear her sigh in disgust, but she doesn't get the chance to say anything. "My problem is Emo-Boy's little faghag of a girlfriend." Several people in the room gasp at Dallas' words; anyone who's been ignoring the confrontation up to this point is now completely focused on it. I hear Clare sobbing behind me and I pull her into my arms. She tenses but holds onto me as if her life depends on it.

"Eli-" she chokes out.

"She didn't tell you?" Dallas asks with a grin so wide I want to knock every single one of his teeth out. "Awe, she must be crying because you don't live up to her boss in bed."

"Shut the fuck up!" Adam suddenly cries. He's pushed himself through the crowd from the back of the room and a look of rage has completely taken over his fragile features. I've never, not even once in our friendship, seen him look so infuriated.

My blood runs cold and I look at Clare. She couldn't-she WOULDn't- "Clare?" I ask, both horrified and terribly confused.

"Yeah, she's totally been fucking that hotshot journalist she worships," Dallas snarls. I suddenly remember that his first name is Mike, and old rage fuels my current furry. He's lying. He HAS to be lying. "I heard he fired her because she's no good in the sack."

"It wasn't like that!" Clare chokes out, her voice breaking. She sinks out of my arms and onto the floor. Adam is immediately next to her and she falls into his offering embrace.

"He touched HER you motherfucker!" Adam screams. "What the hell is wrong with you? Clare? How does HE know?"

"He was there," Clare says between gasps; she's hyperventilating. "He saw it all. He didn't-" she hiccups,  
"-he didn't even try to stop it."

Time seems to stand still. The lit paper lanterns Drew hung earlier dull in my eyes, and the conversation in the room turns into white noise. It all makes sense now: Clare's distance, her pushing me away in the bedroom…the REAL reason her internship ended…Asher. Asher goddamn Shostack. That motherfucking creep…he…WHAT did he do to my girlfriend? My sweet, kind, compassionate, innocent girlfriend?

My mind fails to process my body's actions as my fist collides with Dallas' jaw. He ends up on the floor but quickly bounces up. I'm faintly aware of the anarchy in the room; all hell has broken loose. Jake is wrestling on the floor with Becky's brother, Katie Matlin of all people has some red jacket-cladden ass in some sort of headlock, and I…well, I'm pushing Dallas up against the white brick wall and breaking the cardinal rule of men by kneeing him in his nuts. He cries out and I punch his face again; his blood pours onto my hand but I just keep punching. I faintly hear Clare's voice crying out for me to stop, but Dallas is on the floor and I can't stop myself from kicking him repeatedly. "You ASSHOLE!" I might be hurting Dallas, but I only see one face in my mind and it's not his.

I hear Katie cry and Jake begin to vomit. The sounds of Clare's pouring tears tug at my heart, but I'm so, so pissed off. Pissed off at Dallas for what he said, pissed off at all the homophobic assholes that have waltzed into my world, pissed off at Asher fucking Shostack for hurting the love of my goddamn life.

But most of all, I'm infuriated with myself. I was too wrapped up in my fucking play and NYU and the annoyance that is Becky Baker to notice that there was something seriously wrong.

_I wasn't there to protect her._

"ELI!" Clare has wrapped her trembling arms around me, and I notice we're both on the floor. Dallas is coughing up blood next to us. A cacophony of noise filters through this party gone wrong, and Clare and I just hold each other, both sobbing.

"Baby, I'm so sorry-" my voice breaks.

"Shh…" she's running her fingers through my hair. "I should have told you. I'm the one who's sorry." I wince when her hands brush the side of my head; it's pounding and I can barely see. "Oh, Eli…"

"POLICE!" They don't bother knocking; at least five cops and two paramedics barge into the loft. Katie is still beating the shit out of some ginger kid; through my blurred vision I see someone stick a needle in her and she falls limp. Jake appears to be passed out in his own vomit. And Dallas…

Dallas isn't moving.

"Get up, kid." A policeman forces me to my feet and places me in handcuffs. I, along with at least five others, are marched out of the loft.

"Eli!" Clare is running up next to us. She throws her arms around me and walks backwards as I'm forced down the stairs.

I awkwardly kiss her head. "I love you Clare. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." I'm thrown into the back of a cruiser and Clare places her hand on the glass, looking completely distraught. She mouths something; I think I make out the words "I'm sorry."

What does she have to apologize for? I'm the one who fucked everything up. I'm the one who's a bad boyfriend.

We speed toward a place where I assume a jail cell waits for me, and all the red and blue lights pierce my eyes with their harsh brightness.

I laugh bitterly. There apparently ARE always going to be twinkly lights, but I guess no one ever assured anyone that was a good thing.

We arrive at the police station; as expected, I'm marched right into confinement. Somehow, I manage to check my mental state: I'm not manic. I'm not depressed.

I'm mad as hell.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am sorry about the wait on this chapter. I had some upsetting circumstances unfold in my personal/professional life and haven't been in the mood to write. I was also completely mindfucked by the promos for finale week. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous for eclare. Who I am REALLY worried about, though, is Clare! I hurt for her. Anyway, thank you for reading this story. One more chapter after this. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Twitter/Tumblr: LiteraryLolita**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi; I'd never kill a dog.**

"_So you run. So you hide, and you watched as they die. They all fell, you could fall too, or you could sew your wings and try to fly right through. Give me all your fear, throw it all away. Think about the good things, no matter what they say. We'll take tomorrow baby, yeah, one day at a time."-Butch Walker, "Take Tomorrow (One Day At A Time)"_

Clare

"Clare, honey, wake up. Jake's home." My eyes flutter open at my mother's voice. She looks tired and weary, which no one could possibly blame her for.

It's been three days since my birthday, also known as the day everything went to Hell.

"I'll be right down," I smile at my mom. She doesn't know about Asher yet. Jake somehow KNEW that I wasn't ready to tell our parents (even though he himself didn't quite know what had happened); when he was hospitalized after the fight, he told them that the hockey team had simply called me a slut, along with many other words I'd rather not think about. Mom and Glenn know about the article I wrote and that it incited anger from the Ice Hounds; they don't blame Jake or Eli for "defending my honor".

I know I will have to tell them the whole truth one day, but that day is not today.

Jake, however, I probably owe a conversation.

I pull my robe on and head into his room. The sight makes my heart hurt: his arm rests in a sling and his pallor is not good. His participation in the fight resulted in a broken collarbone and internal bleeding discovered via CAT scan; he had to undergo emergency surgery. The doctors claim he will be just fine, but still…I feel responsible, and it sickens me.

"Hey, bro." I smile softly. Jake grins back as he pats his bed. I sit next to him and put my hand on his cheek.

"I am so sorry," I whisper. He takes my hand and pulls it off his face, but doesn't let go. "This is all my fault." My heart sinks into my stomach, knowing it's true.

"Clare, no offense, but that's bullshit." Jake laughs sardonically. "This is so far from being your fault it's not even…look, NOTHING is on you, here. I'm so sorry for what happened to you. I should have noticed something something was wrong…I was so busy with the garden and Katie and-"

"Shh," I say. I lean down and hug him gently. "You're hurt. I hate it."

"Believe it or not, my rage toward the hockey team was NOT solely due to Mike Dallas and his…douchebaggery." We laugh at the fitting description of Mike's behavior. "I've been pissed at the dude for a while."

He has? "Why didn't you tell me? What's going on?"

Jake sighs. "Well, Mike liked Katie. I'm not entirely sure what happened between the two of them, but she's obviously with me, and he completely trashed our garden."

I gasp. "What? When?"

"The day before your birthday. I didn't want to ruin your special day." He grimaces. "But that didn't do much good." Jake raises his sling. "I got off easy. Dallas has a bruised kidney and three broken ribs. Not to mention he got knocked out. Your boyfriend can really fight." I wince; thinking of what Eli's done. I'm not angry, though. I can't blame him, even if violence isn't something I believe should be a first resort. Eli was blindsided. "The asshole can't even press charges since he fought back and incited the fight. All the witness statements are stacked against him."

I softly smile. "Jake…"

"Clare, I need you to know you can come to me." Jake ruffles his hair with his good hand. "We're family."

"I know," I whisper. "I just…I couldn't tell anyone. I felt dirty. I still do. I-" tears start streaming down my face.

"Clare, you're the victim here!" Jake looks upset, but I know it's not with me.

"Do you know everything that happened?" I ask, half hoping he does so I don't have to say it out loud again.

"Yeah," Jake admits. "Alli told me when she and Jenna visited." He looks down. "She figured you wouldn't want to tell the story a third time."

She was right about that. After most people left the party, Adam held my hand while I explained what happened, in all its horrific details, to Alli and Jenna. We cried together and they held me and told me they'd do anything they could to help me through this. Even Fiona and Imogen, who don't know exactly what caused the fight, hugged me before I left that night. Adam took me home; I couldn't handle being at the hospital with my mom and Glenn. I know that makes me a coward, but at the time I thought that if my mother saw my face…she would KNOW.

I'm not ready for her to know.

Adam slept on my bedroom floor that night and never once left my side.

"Clare…" Jake takes my hand again. "I know I haven't said this since we broke up, and obviously I mean it differently now, but I just want you to know I love you."

I smile. "I know. I love you too."

We sit in silence for a moment before he asks the required question. "Are you going to be okay?"

I look at the ground. "I don't know."

"Are you going to go see Eli?" Jake shifts on the bed. "Didn't you say he got out of his 48 hour jail punishment thing today?" As punishment for his involvement in the fight, Eli was sentenced to 48 hours in jail. Since he was arrested, he's suspended for ten days. Jake is also suspended; I'm not sure what punishment fell upon the others involved in the brawl. I silently nod before Jake smirks. "I guess all of your heroes are coming home today!"

I laugh. "If you weren't already injured, I would smack you right now for your smug attitude."

Jake's smile brightens. "Oh, I could SO milk this injury…"

"On second thought, maybe I'll smack you anyway!"

Jake looks at me pointedly. "Maybe you should go see your boyfriend instead."

My face falls. "If he even still wants to BE my boyfriend…"

"What?" Jake shakes his head. "Clare, don't be stupid. He loves you."

"But I lied to him." I will myself not to cry again. "I told him I was all in, and I kept things from him. He's probably furious with me."

"Clare," Jake sighs. "If anyone can understand what it's like to need to keep secrets, to feel lost…it's Eli."

I let that sink in for a moment. "When did you become SMART?" I ask, feigning shock.

"Oh, I've always been smart." Jake smirks. "I just keep it to myself until I need to use my knowledge to my advantage. This advice is a freebie, but next time it will cost you."

I stand and exit his room, calling an "I'll keep that in mind" over my shoulder as I do.

_**Later…**_

I'm standing on the Goldsworthy's front porch, shivering in my leggings, boots, and plaid coat. The door stands before me, waiting to be knocked on, but I haven't mustered up the courage to do so in the past five minutes. I'm seriously considering just turning around and walking home, but before I can contemplate the decision any further the door swings open.

"Hey, Clareabelle." Bullfrog smiles at me, but his eyes are just as tired as my mother's. I suddenly am filled with an abundant amount of respect for the both of them; I can't imagine what it's like to be a parent. "You've been out here for a while." He smirks. "Would you like to come in, kid?"

I blush and nod. Bullfrog takes my coat when I walk in and gestures toward the stairs. "He's up in his room."

I don't move. I have to know something first. "Bullfrog?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Do you blame me for this?" The question comes out in a whisper, and I brace myself for the answer.

Bullfrog doesn't even hesitate. "No."

I breathe out a sigh of relief. "No?"

"Clare, Eli told me what happened, and it's so fucked up." To my surprise, the older man pulls me into a hug. "I'm so sorry you went through that." He pulls away and looks at me with what has to be the most serious look I've ever seen on his face. "I get why you didn't tell him."

"You do?"

"You were trying to protect him, weren't you?"

I pause. That's definitely part of it. "He's just been so happy, Bullfrog." I shake my head. "I didn't want to burden him. I also guess I didn't want anyone to know." I look at the floor. "Is he mad?"

Bullfrog snorts. "Oh, he's beyond pissed." The look on my face must cause his to soften. "But not at you, kid. I'm not sure if you've figured this out or not, but my son is completely batshit-crazy in love with ya."

I giggle. "I-I know he loves me, I'm just afraid."

"Of what? That he's flown off the handle again?"

I cringe. "Sort of. But mostly that he won't want to be with me anymore."

Bullfrog literally laughs in my face. "I thought Eli told me you were smart, Clare!" I smile. "And he's not manic or anything. His doc cleared his mental state."

"Well, that's good." I shuffle my feet. "I'm just gonna…" I look at the stairs.

"Go on." Bullfrog throws his hands up. "But Clare? We're here for you. Not just Eli. Cece and me too. We always will be."

I nod gratefully, completely moved by his words. "Thank you."

I don't bother knocking when I enter Eli's room. Just like with Jake earlier, the sight I'm greeted with horrifies me.

Eli's eyes are both black, there are stitches above his left eyebrow, and since he's in his boxers and a t-shirt I can see an ace bandage wrapped around his knee.

Why is everyone I love getting hurt because of me?

"Clare!" Eli looks up from his comic and immediately stands to limp over to me. "Oh God, it's good to see you." It is? _Then he doesn't want to break up._ He pulls me into a hug, and the dam holding back my flood of tears bursts. His embrace is so warm, so comforting, everything I don't deserve. "Oh, Baby…" Eli walks me over to his bed and sits me down. He takes my face in his hands. "Why are you upset? Please don't cry." His face darkens. "I have more than enough images of you in tears in my mind already."

"Eli, I'm so sorry."

"Why the hell are you sorry?" Eli strokes my arms. "You were hurt. You were VIOLATED! And I-" He pulls his hands from my arms and I see they're shaking. I take them into mine and attempt to steady him. "I wasn't there to protect you." A single tear trails down his cheek.

"Oh, Eli!" I pull him into my arms. "That wasn't on you. That's NEVER been your job."

He pulls away from me, shaking his head. "I'm your boyfriend. I was too wrapped up in my fucking play and-"

"Eli!" I take his face in my hands. "We have had a HEALTHY relationship this time around." I stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. "You can't be my protector. I just-I just want you to be my boyfriend. I just want you to love me." The last statement comes out in a soft tone.

"Clare, I do love you." He pulls my hands from his face and interlaces our fingers. "I love you so goddamn much. That's why I hate that this happened to you. It SICKENS me, Edwards."

I gave Adam permission to tell Eli exactly what happened to me over the phone the day before Eli went to jail for two days. Eli and I spoke only briefly, and I swore to come over the day he got out.

"I'm especially shocked you didn't tell me, Clare." Eli's eyes search mine for answers.

"I couldn't," I whisper. "I didn't want to upset you."

"You know that beating the shit out of Mike was a result of me being ANGRY, right?" Eli releases my hands and throws his in the air. "Just plain pissed. Most teenage boys who love their girlfriends HALF as much as I love you would have had the same reaction." He smirks. "Even my therapist says so."

"I know, Eli." I smile at him. "I'm not worried about your mental state."

Eli sighs in relief. "So you're not mad at me?"

I laugh. "No, not at all." I wait a moment before asking "Are you mad at me?"

Eli sighs. "No. But Clare…" He takes my hands again. "We're ALL IN, remember? You need to talk to me. We need to practice open communication."

"I know," I whisper. "It's just, telling Adam was hard enough-"

"Remind me to both kick his ass for not telling me and buy him a new videogame for being there for you," Eli interrupts.

"I asked him not to," I remind him gently.

"I know, but still." Eli stares me down. "Promise me you will never keep anything like this from me ever again."

I let out a shaky breath. "I promise."

Eli stands and begins pacing back and forth across his room, which must be difficult with his damaged knee. "Clare, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"About Asher FUCKING Nutsack."

"Nothing," I answer.

Eli stops pacing. "Nothing?!" He comes and gets on his good knee in front of me, desperately taking my hands in his own. "Clare, you need to press charges."

"I can't," I choke out, beginning to cry again. "It's my word against his. There is no proof." I look away from Eli's piercing eyes. "And I don't want to talk about it. I'm not even ready to tell my parents. Eli, please try to understand."

"I want to KILL him, Clare." Eli's voice is laced with loathing. "I HATE him.

I run my fingers through Eli's hair. "I know. But Eli…you have to let that go. Holding on to all of that hate will do nothing but bring out your inner monsters."

He holds my gaze for several seconds before sighing and rejoining me on his bed. "You're right." I feel his body tense beside me, and I know something's on his mind.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I understand that you don't want to tell your parents. I even understand why you don't want to press charges." Eli's face turns to stone. "In this fucked up world, your case…" He scowls. "Well, you're right. It wouldn't hold up in court."

I shiver, not needing to be reminded of this fact. "Okay. I appreciate that. I'm sensing a "but" here, though…"

"I think you should talk to someone," Eli states plainly. Before I can protest, he goes on. "A therapist, I mean. You can go to a free mental health clinic or the guidance counselor at school. Anything."

"Eli…I can't…" I'm sobbing in earnest now. Eli tentatively places his hand on my shoulder.

"You won't be able to heal from what happened to you if you don't, Sweetheart." Eli's look is so tender and full of love. "I think you know I'm right about this," he adds gently. "I'll even go with you if you want."

I grimace at the thought of Eli hearing the details of what happened with Asher from my own lips. "I'll do it," I say. "But I think I should do it alone."

"Whatever you need, Clare, I'm here." Eli's smile makes me want to just lie down on his bed and relax the afternoon away, but one more thing is weighing on my mind.

"Thank you, Eli." I look away. "But there is something we should talk about." I take a deep breath. "I love you. You know that. I love you more than anyone, and I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, Clare." Eli takes my hand and squeezes it. "Ever."

"But the thing is," I look at him, "I don't know when I'll be ready to be physical again." I wipe my tears away. "I want to be, and you have to know it's not you." Eli takes his hand away and I immediately miss his touch. "I don't want to break up, I just…I can't sleep with you. I don't know how long it will take for me to be ready again, but-"

"Clare-"

"-so I understand if you want to end things." I rush to get the words out, hating that I have to say them.

To my shock, Eli starts laughing hysterically. "Oh, Clare." He takes my hands again. "Is this okay?" I nod; it's not _this _kind of touch that bothers me. "I've never been with you for sex." He smirks. "You wore a purity ring when we started dating; you know it's not an issue for me."

I blush. "Yeah, but that was before we...before we made love."

"Clare," Eli says, his voice serious, "it doesn't matter. Nothing's changed. I love _you_, all of you. I can wait until you're ready again." He hesitantly kisses my cheek. "There always has and always will be so much more to our relationship than the physical aspects of it."

My smile reaches my eyes for the first time in weeks. "I'm really happy to hear that."

Eli looks thoughtful. "May I hold you? Is that okay?"

I smile. "Of course." I collapse into his arms and we settle into a cuddling position on the bed. He kisses my curls, and we lie in one another's embrace, content and relieved with all truths are out in the open.

I may not be "okay" by a long shot, but I will be. I love Eli, Eli loves me, and for now that's enough.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here is the final chapter of this story. I want to thank everyone who's read, reviewed, sent me a message on tumblr…all of it. It means a lot. I think I can speak for most, if not all, Eclare fans when I say that WOW THAT LAST SCENE IN THE FINALE WAS BEAUTIFUL. It's nice to have them in a good place. I have another story up my sleeve, but I'd like to write some oneshots first. I hope you'll read them!**

**Twitter/Tumblr (and I fangirl too much on these things): literarylolita**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, but I DO own a fabulous hat just like Tristan's in the musical ;-)**

"_And I traded brick for straw in the house I built around my heart, so when you came it wouldn't be so tough. No 'huff and puff' could dismantle us."-Bayside, "Landing Feet First"_

_Eli_

"Woohoo!" I'm clapping wildly with Clare by my side doing the same as Dave and Tristan take their curtain call. It's opening night of _Romeo and Jules_; thanks to Adam, the musical continued production. My suspension (and arrest) pretty much ruined me being able to direct the play; Adam took over, and I insisted his name be listed next to "Director" in the program and only claimed a producer's credit for myself.

"Your vision was beautiful," Clare says in my ear. I pause my clapping and glance down at her; the look of adoration on her face melts my heart.

"I didn't finish it, though." I put my arm around her and we walk toward the wings of the stage. "Adam pulled this off. I don't know what he pulled out of his ass to do so, but he really stepped up."

"It was your idea, though," Clare reminds me. "Well, the Jules part of it. And you laid the groundwork. This wouldn't have happened without you." She squeezes my side; I'm pleased that she still seems to enjoy my touch. Whenever I think of what happened to her, I have to do the breathing exercises my therapist taught me in order to calm my rage and/or run about five miles.

I don't know if I'll ever be over it, and it didn't even happen to _me._

"This wouldn't have been possible without you, either," I remind her. "Your article made a huge difference."

It's true. The public outcry for _Romeo and Jules _to go on as originally planned was far more vocal and adamant than that of the people against it. LGBT advocates from all over the city donated money to the drama department, so much that the protests of parents and a goddamn hockey team didn't matter. One generous benefactor wrote an extremely large check; his son committed suicide due to bullies at school bashing him for being gay. The man personally wrote me a letter to express his gratitude; I still haven't responded, because for once, words are failing me. The drama department now has a budget that will easily last them for years. Simpson seems extremely pleased, even if the Ice Hounds and some parents are pissed at him.

"I suppose I helped a little," Clare giggles. Adam runs up to us.

"Hey guys!" His cheeks are flushed and his smile wide. "I can't believe we pulled it off. I can't believe the show went on!"

I step away from Clare to hug Adam. "Thank you for saving this, man." I clap his back, pull away, and look at him seriously. "You have no idea what it means to me."

"We all made it possible," Adam reasons. "I just finished what you started." He smiles at Clare. "And what you promoted."

"We should team up more often," Clare suggests with a raised eyebrow and excited smile on her face. "We could take over the world!"

Adam and I both burst into laughter. "Eli, I'm so glad you got her to watch all those comic book movies. She's one of us!"

"Yep. That's my girl." I put my arm around Clare's shoulders again, and she leans into me.

"Guys! That was Ah-MAH-zing!" Tristan bounds over to our little trio. "We're all going out for pizza to celebrate! Want to come?"

"I'm in!" Adam says excitedly before looking at us pointedly.

I glance at Clare, and can tell from her face she's not particularly up for a large crowd of people tonight. Her counseling sessions with Ms. Sauve are going well, but word of what happened to her has somehow spread throughout the school; I'm guessing Dallas didn't keep his mouth shut. Many versions of the story are running the rumor mill, but I think most people know and believe the truth. Clare's parents know now and are urging her to press charges. I'll never forget the moment after her argument about it with them. She called me, bawling. I went to her house immediately and held her all night; she was so upset that Helen didn't even bother kicking me out.

"Next time," I promise. Adam shrugs and quickly hugs Clare before he and Tristan walk away, the latter of the two boys blowing us a kiss as he does so.

"Want me to walk you home?" I ask my girlfriend. She nods and we exit the school.

I'm not prepared for what happens next, and based on the events of my life, I should have learnt by now to not be surprised about anything, ever.

"Clare! Eli!" Becky walks up the steps of the school to meet us. I didn't see her in the crowd of the play and am surprised she showed up at all.

"What do you want?" I hiss.

"Eli," Clare says softly, squeezing my side.

"I want to apologize." Becky looks at the ground.

This cannot be real; a girl as self-righteous as Becky doesn't apologize for anything.

"For what?" Clare asks softly.

Becky looks up and fixes her gaze on Clare. "For what happened at your birthday party. For what Luke did, I mean." She looks down. "It was wrong of him, and I'm so sorry for everything else that happened to you."

I feel Clare stiffen underneath me, but she manages to speak without a waver in her voice. "I appreciate that, Becky. You aren't responsible for your brother's actions, though, only your own."

Becky gives Clare a soft grin and nods at me before turning around and walking away.

"That was different," I note, surprisingly with no malice in my voice.

"She's not an evil person, Eli," Clare states as we walk down the street. "You know, her beliefs probably aren't even her own. She's likely been incredibly sheltered." Clare grins up at me. "Sound like anyone else you know?"

"Yeah, but you're different," I argue. "You're not a judgmental bitch."

"I wasn't always that different from Becky Baker, Eli." Clare sighs. "When I came to Degrassi, I morphed into my own person, became someone other than the girl my parents molded me to be. Give her time; she might surprise you."

I can't imagine Clare as anything other than a loving, compassionate, fair person, but I nod my head anyway. It's relatively warm for March in Toronto, so when I see what I'll always think of as Clare's and my special bench, I sit down, gently pulling her with me.

"You okay?" Clare asks. She wiggles out of my embrace and takes my hands.

"I have to tell you something." I search her eyes and frown at the confusion I find in them. What I have to say to Clare will without a doubt disappoint her. I've put off telling her because she's had far too much disappointment in her life, especially from me.

"What is it?" Clare's expression of kindness gives me the push to just spit it out.

"I'm not graduating," I say softly.

"What? How?" Clare lets go of my hands and rubs her neck. "WHY?"

I laugh. "Clare, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've missed a LOT of school."

"I know you were suspended, but-"

"I was also suspended last year, remember?" I gently take her hands in mine again. "And after my mental break, I missed three weeks of school."

"But still, your marks are great!" She frowns. "Eli, it doesn't make any sense!"

"It's not my marks. It's my attendance. I haven't been to high school enough days to graduate." I look away. "When Julia died," I nearly choke on my words. Even after all this time, it's painful to think of my first love's demise. "After…I didn't go back to school. I did some assignments from home, but just barely passed Grade Ten."

"Eli, you never told me that." Clare's gentle voice brings me to look at her again.

"I don't like to dwell on those days, Edwards." I pull her into my arms. "Are you mad?"

Clare laughs and leans her head onto my chest. "No. What AM I going to do with you, though?" She teases.

"You tell me," I joke.

She tightens her arms around my torso. "I can't believe everything we've been through, both together and apart."

I don't respond right away; the memories of the past year and a half are washing over me at a rapid pace. My mind settles on the image of the first time Clare and I sat on this bench; the first time I saw that there was something special hiding beneath her pretty eyes. "We've come a long way."

"At least I won't have to miss you next year," Clare notes.

"Way to look on the bright side," I laugh.

"We'll get through it. The bright sides, the bad sides…" Clare's voice trails off, and I know she's thinking of Asher and the journey she must take.

"Together," I say.

She looks up at me, eyes swimming with love and trust. "Always and forever."

I smirk and lean in to kiss her softly; she deepens it for the briefest of moments before pulling away. Clare's smile reassures me that everything will be all right, even if there won't always be "twinkly lights".

However, when she snuggles deeply into my arms and strokes my sides, I can't help but notice how illuminated the lamp posts are on Queen street tonight.

Something tells me that our future is just as bright.


End file.
